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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22599133">Life With A Vampire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleslikeconstellations/pseuds/freckleslikeconstellations'>freckleslikeconstellations</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dracula (TV 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>AU, Addictive Behaviour, Alcohol, Angst, Baby, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Childish Reader, Clingy Reader, Clubbing, Consequences, Dancing, Drama, Drunkenness, F/M, Fear, Fingering, Flirting, Horny Reader, Horror, Human/Vampire Relationship, Jealousy, London, Longing, Manipulation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Murder, NSFW, Nudity, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Pride, Punishment, Reader gets turned into a vampire, Religious References, Secrets, Sexual References, Smut, Social Media References, Strong Language, Texting, Truth, Vaginal Sex, Violence, Voyeurism, can't live with or without one another, conservative party references, fangs, glasses wearing Reader, goading, graveyard, green party references, hitting/slapping, interfering mother, mating behaviour, mental manipulation, predatory behaviour, reader putting on a show for Dracula, some similarities with domestic violence, sun references, threatening behaviour, vampire, vampire myths, vampire's kiss, vampires feeding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:47:33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,392</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22599133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/freckleslikeconstellations/pseuds/freckleslikeconstellations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two different scenarios where Reader, starting to encounter the difficulties of dating a vampire, puts on a show for Dracula.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Count Dracula/Lucy Westenra, Dracula/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>51</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. My Local Vampire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi,<br/>Hope you enjoy this. :)</p><p>Each scenario will be covered in two chapters each. :) </p><p>Please let me know what you think. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A twenty-two-year-old PhD student in the History of Science you are in your room getting ready to go out clubbing with Lucy Westenra, who is the same age as you, and your other friends. You had taken a while to decide whether you were going to go out or not in the first place. You had been <em>hoping</em> for a visit by someone else, but aren't sure whether they’ll be coming or not and a recurring incident that seems to happen whenever you go clubbing with Lucy and the others <em>had</em> put you off, but knowing that you’d only be moodier if you let others dictate your life, you’ve decided that you might as well go after all. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The man you’d perhaps been hoping would stop by tonight is Dracula and you’ve kept your curtains slightly ajar expectantly, with any luck not giving your neighbours <em>too</em> much of a show as you trot about in only your underwear and with your glasses upon your face as you decide what to wear, your h/c hair bobbing just behind you. If she could see that you still had your curtains open then your mother-you still live with your father and her-would be horrified, but Dracula’s a vampire and <em>more</em> perhaps than any other being on earth you can’t expect <em>him</em> to pop by the normal way when he wants to be intimate with you. Although he has rung the doorbell before, to do so when he would like to drink from you and to <em>alert</em> your parents to the fact that he’s there would ruin the moment. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The first time you’d met him you’d been upset and in a bit of a state. One of those recurring incidents in the club had just taken place. <em>Lucy,</em> who gets enough attention as it is what with her being the age she is and having dark, frizzy hair and a curvaceous body and who <em>surely</em> hadn’t needed to ask the world for any more notice, had mocked your dancing-it had been annoying, but you <em>know</em> that you are not the most skilled dancer-loudly declared your infatuation on a man who had just been meters away and then to cap it all off had basically insinuated that you had <em>nothing</em> in common with him and should be with someone like Jack Seward instead, who is much more, <em>‘vanilla,’</em> in Lucy’s eyes and ordinary. Thank God that Jack, as a Junior Doctor, had been too busy to go out that night and hadn’t <em>heard</em> her call him that, what with his long-term infatuation with her, <em>despite</em> her having recently gotten engaged to someone else. You don’t understand <em>why</em> she can’t see how Jack feels for her. Everyone else is able to. You’d <em>hated</em> her words as well. You’ve <em>always</em> hated being put into a little box like that and as the daughter of two very active Tory party members who go to their local club and help out frequently [other than that your father writes about horse racing for the paper and is <em>rarely</em> seen without a pencil behind his ear, whilst your mother is a secretary for a local businessman] you’ve been put in a category your entire life-people thinking that you should be good at sport or have an interest in horses [you’re <em>terrified</em> of the creatures after seeing your father fall off in a polo match once when you’d been very young] and thinking that you will grow up to fill the void in the Conservative Club whenever your parents are ready to take a step back from it. You rebelled before you hit your teenage years, just to show them that you <em>wouldn’t</em> be following this path and sought out a new beginning for yourself, as soon as you went to secondary school, being drawn to the most inappropriate people you could find-in this case Lucy and her friends-and voting for the Green Party as soon as you had the privilege to do so. It had upset your mother and she’d lamented the <em> ‘phase’</em> that you’d gotten yourself into, especially when you’d dyed part of your hair green for a time, though you’d felt somewhat <em>venomously</em> that she had <em>little</em> room to make herself seem better than you when she’d proved herself just as bad and hadn’t even been <em>able</em> to work as your father’s assistant for a few months without getting cross and finding it to be unbearable. She’d had to withdraw from the role and find the one she now has. Otherwise you’re pretty certain that she <em>would</em> have divorced your father no matter <em>what</em> the neighbours might have thought about the matter. You have done your best to show the world that you’re not <em>completely</em> where you’ve come from, but you still get judged often by your friends-made out to be the upper-class one of the group, the one who doesn’t <em>quite</em> belong there and often in Lucy’s case the one who cannot <em>possibly</em> understand the hardships that she is going through. She uses you to try and make herself feel better about herself and your other friends have <em>never</em> intervened, consoling themselves with the fact that at <em>least</em> you have a bit of a grander house than them, as if <em>that</em> should make up for it all. At the club, on the first night that you’d met Dracula, you’d had enough of Lucy’s attitude, but you’d <em>also</em> been a little tipsy and more emotional <em>because</em> of such a thing so, <em>recognizing</em> that fact, you’d gotten yourself out of there, inhaled a great big gulp of fresh air and ended up wandering first through the graffiti-covered tunnel and then through the graveyard, which you often use as a short cut on your way home and that had <em>least</em> had the benefits of being quiet and a path that your mother disapproves of you taking.   </p>
<p> </p>
<p>You’d sat down on one of the cold and slightly damp benches that had been off in the grass, nestled more privately amongst some of the graves and hiccuped a little pathetically, wondering suddenly <em>why</em> so many dresses don’t have pockets, let <em>alone</em> anywhere you can keep a tissue with your dignity still intact. You’d felt alone and isolated and <em>wished</em> that you could escape out of the city or at <em>least</em> to the other side of it where hopefully better friends might be awaiting you.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Rough night?” A black pocket-handkerchief had suddenly draped down across your vision and cut a hole through the night like a fake bat that had been hung down on a piece of string. You’d jumped. Your heart had nearly <em>pounded</em> out of your chest when you’d seen a middle-aged man in front of you [at least <em>that’s</em> what you’d thought at the time-in reality there <em>is</em> no middle-age for someone who lives forever] his raven-coloured hair pushed back from his face, dark clothing matching the pro-offered pocket-handkerchief and oddly empathetic dark eyes. Even with his body slightly bent to look down at you, you’d realized that he’d been tall. “It’s all right.” He’d fluttered the pocket-handkerchief at you. “I won’t bite.” He’d smiled rather wolfishly at you then-you’d noticed his crooked teeth-and you <em>now</em> realize the irony of those words. In the present you touch a finger to the mark upon your neck that you will be covering up with a fresh layer of make-up, before you go out tonight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At the time, however, you’d taken the pocket-handkerchief from him a little suspiciously, remembering how your mother had <em>always</em> told you to not make yourself look vulnerable in public, to try and walk in a way that was tall and strong, so that you would <em>never</em> look like prey to anyone. Of course she hadn’t <em>used</em> the word prey and you kind of think that she might have said such a thing so that you wouldn’t make yourself look a <em>fool</em> in front of the neighbours, <em>but…</em>You’d worried that not <em>only</em> had you spectacularly failed to heed those words in that moment, but that you’d have to deal with a creepy older guy on <em>top</em> of what you’d already been through that night. You’d tried to do better by your mother when you’d murmured, “Thank you,” in a perfectly dignified tone, only to be <em>horrified</em> in the next moment when the man had seemed to take that as an invitation to sit down beside you. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is there anything else that I can do to help?” he’d offered, his knees swinging towards yours.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, probably not.” You’d pushed part of the pocket-handkerchief just beneath your glasses and dabbed at your eyes with it, trying to look less like a panda. “Just my friends being idiots, that’s all.” He’d made a sympathetic clucking noise and gone on to look at you so earnestly that you’d found yourself explaining everything that had happened-Lucy’s words, Jack, the other girls, how they <em>always</em> treat you differently to them, as if you’re a different <em>species,</em> you think that you recognize the odd gleam that had been in Dracula’s eyes now as him seeing some similarity in you both, even though of <em>course,</em> in his mind, he would <em>always</em> come out as the superior being and you finish off by telling him about the boy who, looks very ordinary to you now, but at that point had been told that you have a crush on him and who had not said anything at all, but just left you hanging there. It had felt like the <em>height</em> of embarrassment…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, I <em>think</em> you can do better,” the man had said in a polite, but kind way and you’d agreed with a bit of a watery laugh as you’d realized such a thing yourself. In your re-telling the pair of you had become close, both slightly hunched and turned towards one another-Dracula in particular had leant forward-and you’d realized how attractive the man you’d been talking to is and how <em>mesmerizing</em> with his eyes fixed on yours the way they had been. The moment your <em>own</em> eyes had flicked down to his lips a <em>different</em> sort of energy had run through you. It had made you swallow. It had travelled across to him and your intentions had been translated into a way that had made sense in his brain. It was all quite clever really; the absent-minded thought had come to you. “As tempting as it might be I'm not sure if you want to”- you’d thought that he was just being gentlemanly about the entire thing and had reached over to kiss him anyway, your glasses colliding with his face. The last thing you remember hearing is a bit of a groan from him, before you’d slumped down against him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d explained everything to you the next day, having popped around that evening on the basis of checking that you were all right. You were aware of the fact that <em>already</em> the previous night he’d found details of your address on the phone that had been inside your bag and had carried you all the way home. Your mother had <em>not</em> been pleased by the development of you doing such things in your <em> ‘phase’</em> as if some rogue bacteria had suddenly shown up in a Petri dish and had made it <em>clear</em> to you that you shouldn't have gotten <em>so</em> inebriated that it had forced a strange man to carry you home, <em>despite</em> Dracula having told her that it had been no bother to him. It was embarrassing though for your parents to <em>think</em> that you’d gotten so drunk as to become an inconvenience to anyone and Dracula had later told you that he’d been questioned about <em>who</em> might have seen you. He’d sounded <em>offended</em> that your mother hadn’t thought his stealth up to much and you’d told him that your mother <em>rarely</em> thought good of anyone so not to worry about the fact. She is as picky with people as she is with her secretarial work. He’d let out a bark of laughter at that. You hadn’t <em>liked</em> the idea that you’d gotten drunk yourself however, <em>especially</em> when you hadn’t remembered having that much until Dracula had come over and things had become less hazy to you like fog that had lifted. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I'm so sorry about last night.” You’d led him to the seat at the end of the back garden as soon as your mother had called you downstairs and had declared his visit. She’d looked <em>entirely</em> disapproving, <em>especially</em> when you’d gone out in the garden, but that had been your compromise-<em>not</em> to walk around the neighbourhood with Dracula, not at <em>that</em> point anyway, but to still maintain <em>some</em> privacy and separation from your parents by being out in the garden. He’d looked at the plants that had been around the edge of the square section of recently mowed grass curiously, drawn to life as you have found he is since. The viburnum opulus, a shrub whose leaves were turning red and the flowery creeping phlox had particularly seemed to catch his attention in the navy night, as you’d half-observed him. You hadn’t <em>known</em> at that point, but he’d been able to smell them. A street light had flickered ominously nearby. Your parents had twitched the curtains, as they’d watched you and then had checked the state of the neighbours drapes, which had moved as if in a dance like a woman’s skirt, as they’d kept an eye on you and your parents watching you and them in turn. You’d been able to <em>imagine</em> your parents thinking that it was a bit <em>late</em> for a guest, but trying to convince themselves that <em>he</em> had only been there to check up on you like he’d told them he was and reassuring themselves with the fact that he’d no doubt be gone again soon. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s no problem,” he’d looked at you politely when you’d stopped and turned to gaze at him and he’d <em>only</em> sat down on the pristine white-painted seat with its back design like lace once you’d done such a thing yourself, following your lead. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve never drunk that much in my life,” you’d swept your hair back with a sheepish grin at him and had nearly dislodged your glasses. You’d noticed that he was in the same clothes that he’d been in the previous night. “I hope you don’t think <em>too</em> badly of me. It <em>was</em> kind of you to come here though,” you’d admitted. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You weren’t drunk,” he’d smiled at you patiently and you’d wondered if you’d misheard him for a moment because <em>clearly</em> you had been. Your lips had pursed at that point. “Though it <em>is</em> rather unfortunate that your parents have been left with that impression because I <em>was</em> hoping to get to know you a bit more.” He’d touched at your hand with his fingertips in a brief, but meaningful gesture and you’d realized how pointed his nails were and that he had an old-looking ring on one of his fingers.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A surprised kind of pleasure had filled you at his words, though you’d shivered all the same at his cold touch, wondering <em>why</em> he hadn’t worn gloves if he’d found it to be so freezing. Maybe he had poor circulation? “You <em>were?”</em> you’d asked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Most definitely.” He’d parted some of your hair and had moved it back from your forehead. “I would find it <em>hard</em> to walk away from someone who fascinates me so much.” The thought that you might <em>intrigue</em> this older and much more sophisticated man had thrilled you. That was <em>another</em> thing that you had in common with your mother-your father is eight-years older than her. Dracula had curved his hand around your cheek and jaw and you’d had to work <em>hard</em> not to push your face further into his hand, jostle your glasses and give yourself away too much. Your mother wouldn’t be <em>too</em> pleased if you threw yourself on him and there had <em>also</em> been a little alarm bell ringing in your head. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wouldn’t have thought you would have found me all <em>that</em> curious,” you’d told him and he’d frowned in displeasure at the idea that you might have doubted him and that his charm hadn’t been as effective as it usually was, “We can’t have spoken for that long, before I passed out from the alcohol,” you’d tried to explain. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I told you there <em>was</em> no intoxication,” he’d stressed the point and had seemed a touch annoyed and you’d <em>hoped</em> that he wasn’t being put off you already, but you’d been best at science in school and hadn’t been able to <em>help</em> but persist in what you’d thought was fact-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I”- </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You were just reacting as most people <em>normally</em> would do to a vampire’s kiss,” he’d decided to reveal to you to make things go more swiftly. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It had taken you a moment to work out the <em>context</em> of what he’d just said and he’d watched with a mixture of amusement and impatience upon his face, as your mouth had made various shapes of disbelief and recognition. You wonder <em>now</em> how many times he must have had to wait for people to grasp onto the idea of what he is. That <em>vampires</em> are real! </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I-What-But-You”- you’d tried to calm yourself and take him in, in a more scientific way, looking out for the various things that you remembered from books and horror films-the fact that this <em>man,</em> who is in his early-fifties appearance wise has no trace of grey hair and no signs of such hairs having been <em>disguised</em> by dye either-you’d been familiar with the idea of people <em>not</em> growing old gracefully when you’d been dragged to the local Conservative Club before. <em>Nor</em> were there any signs of ageing upon his face. You’d remembered how you’d <em>hoped</em> that you might see him again that day and had looked out for him, but the fact that he’d left it to the <em>evening</em> to do such a thing…of course he could have just been busy you’d thought, but something had told you that, that <em>hadn’t</em> been the case. The final clue had been right in front of you and had come to you as your eyes had dropped absent-mindedly to his chest and you’d <em>realized</em> that he had not been breathing. Slowly you’d looked back up at him.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He’d chuckled a little and had smiled to reveal a flash of his-at that time-<em>blunted</em> fangs. Your eyebrows had risen. “You might not want to continue your acquaintance with me…” He’d looked a touch sad then, eyes large and brown like mud in rain beneath thick eyebrows, lips almost drawn into a pout and no <em>sign</em> of the fangs that had looked so potentially dangerous a moment before. You now <em>wonder</em> if it had been put on, but at the time you’d been keen to reassure him. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh no-I”- you’d touched at his arm and crinkled his suit, before your hand had jumped off it again at the fast look of hope and a smug kind of pleasure that had been upon his face and the idea that your parents had been watching. You’d had a streak of questions running through your head and whilst you’d <em>still</em> given yourself a chance to think about the <em>exact</em> nature of your future relationship with him-would he let you go in the <em>first</em> place if you ever changed your mind?-you’d asked them in order to try and process the fact that he is a vampire. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed <em>too</em> annoyed by your questions and had looked as if he was enjoying getting to know you as well when he’d asked you some in turn. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>You had been out there an hour and a half and though the atmosphere between Dracula and you had gotten warmer and warmer-you <em>still</em> find it hard to believe that vampires <em>really</em> exist, however-the night had started to get a bit <em>too</em> chilly for a mere mortal like you and Dracula had gotten up, taken off his jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders in a way that was somehow both tender and mischievous at the same time-you had <em>known</em> that he hadn’t been able to let such an opportunity pass him by and he had known that <em>you</em> had known, which had resulted in wide grins that had spread across both your faces, when the back door had opened. A rectangular beam of light had run across to you from the house and had made Dracula blink a little and you frown.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As much as we <em>appreciate</em> your visit it’s getting a bit late now and I’d like F/N to help me with a few things. As you’ve had time to establish she’s all right after last night.” Your mother had been by the back door. You’d <em>known</em> then that there had been no such chores to do and you’d felt both a little bit annoyed <em>and</em> disappointed at the prospect of Dracula leaving.  </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Dracula,</em> on the other hand, had been charming. “Of course,” he’d told her, “I did not mean to intrude.” You’d felt <em>more</em> irritation towards your mother because he was being so sweet even <em>though</em> he’d clearly realized that he wasn’t wanted by her. He’d given a little bow to your mother, before he’d turned back to you. “Keep it,” he’d gestured at the jacket when your hand had automatically gone to pull it off. “Give me your phone,” he’d instructed, “I’ll insert my number, so that you can tell me when it would be a convenient time for me to pick it up.” There had been a hint of wickedness about the smile that he’d given you and you’d grinned in turn and had done as he’d wanted you to <em>willingly,</em> feeling excited and as if you’d somehow been getting one up on your mother at the same time. You’d sent him a little text, so that he’d had your number in turn-<em>I just realized that I don’t even have your name. I'm F/N by the way-</em> and he’d amusedly read such a thing, before he’d sent you back: <strong>It's Dracula F/N. What a pretty name you have</strong> and then been charming again as your mother had escorted him out of the house. You’d stared down at the text and had mouthed his name for a moment and blushed happily at the way that he was already making you feel. You’d been surprised, consequently, when you’d returned to your room a bit later-<em>after</em> your mother had lectured you about taking up people’s time-to find Dracula there and you’d talked some more, enjoying your conversations about your degree and learning more about Dracula’s perspective in turn, as you’d faced one another in bed, before you’d made a fitful kind of love in the most quiet of ways, [instigated by him, but gone along with by you] and you'd <em>mewled</em> into his shoulder, before you’d gone as numb as you had the night before. In the morning, and when he’d already left, you’d been worried when you’d discovered that he’d drunk a bit from your neck, but he’d reassured you that you would be all right when you’d sent him a flurry of texts and had <em>also</em> added that he hadn’t been able to <em>help</em> but do such a thing. You’d been <em>so</em> beautiful. The two of you have been meeting up often ever since for nearly three months, much to your mother’s chagrin. She seems to think that you’ve become more negative since meeting Dracula and that you’re purely <em>burdening</em> him and should not be so infatuated with him after he had given you <em>one</em> act of kindness in the way he had done before. She doesn’t <em>know</em> how you’ve already re-paid him. Your father has largely stayed out of the matter, though he’d grunted over the top of his newspaper one day-he likes to read the one that he works for, as <em>well</em> as the competition-that you should probably listen to your mother if you know what’s good for you. At first you’d been <em>entirely</em> dismissive of the idea and much of your conversations with your parents had flared up into arguments, but lately, and as time has gone along, you’ve been wondering if she might <em>actually</em> be right.  Dracula has <em>only</em> been showing up to take a few drops of blood from you and <em>must</em> be spending time with other people. He has said that he doesn’t want to <em>properly</em> feed from you and you <em>know</em> that he has to spend time with others as a result of such a thing, but can’t help but feel <em>anger</em> in the pit of your stomach and a never ending sort of spiral that you can’t find your way out of. He is <em>supposed</em> to be the predator, but <em>you</em> are the one who is feeling possessive over <em>him.</em> Yet when you are with him it’s not as if you’re always happy and content either. You have <em>often</em> ended up complaining about Lucy whenever the conversation has gotten onto your life and Dracula has told you to <em>either</em> stand up to her or not be her friend any more, not really <em>getting</em> the complicated relationship that you have with her. You wonder if he is growing bored with you. If in time he won’t show up at all. The idea of him not doing so just makes your feelings of jealousy and anger all the <em>worse…</em>  <br/>You might have the thought sometimes that he’s not any good for you, but that feeling never lasts long and any interaction with Dracula tends to minimize it. You’re not sure how you’d <em>cope</em> without him now…</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You come out of your thought and stare at yourself in the mirror. The underwear set that Lucy had bought you as a joke one time has <em>finally</em> come in handy-they are the most provocative things that you own. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can dance,” you mutter, swaying your hips and pretending to slide down a pole. “Not <em>too</em> into myself for that.” You get lower and lower, before you arch up again and gyrate a little. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>There comes a scraping sound against the window. Your heart goes, <em>‘boom,’</em> like the creaking of a ship that is breaking apart as you look around.       </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Dracula is hanging the right way up from your windowsill, evidently having quickly scaled the wall of the house. His eyes are red and his mouth is slightly ajar to show lengthened fangs. His stare is smouldering and seems to travel down right to your heart and threaten to cut off your blood supply. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>You hurry to the window to let him in and though you <em>try</em> to assist his effort in clambering in, he opts for making you both tumble down to the floor with a loud thud that has you squashed in the small gap that is between the windowsill and bed [on the other side of the bed there is <em>ample</em> room and where you mostly hang out when you spend any time in there.] You adjust your glasses. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t <em>ever</em> leave your curtains open like that again,” he hisses at you meaningfully, “And <em>especially</em> where any one but me can see you.” The intimidating effect that he’s <em>trying</em> to have is rather spoilt by the hair that is tumbling down over his forehead and you place a finger to his lips as you wait for the inevitable shout from downstairs to come. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just as Dracula looks like he might leave you with <em>nine</em> fingers instead of ten your mother calls, “F/N, what was that? Is everything all right up there?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s nothing! A book just fell from the shelf, that’s all!” </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Be careful,” your father sees fit to add in a rumbling tone. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I will!” you call back, before you tack on just for Dracula, <em>“Only</em> my local vampire.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“ ‘Only?’”</em> Dracula’s eyebrows rise and you feel a savage pleasure for a moment at letting him know how it feels and getting your <em>own</em> back a little. <em>“I’ll</em> show you there’s no <em>‘only’</em> about it, my darling.” He clambers off you momentarily and nearly pulls down the curtains altogether as he rips them brutally shut. Then he is on you again, fangs sinking into your neck and over the mark that he’d made previously…</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Dracula's Brides</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When you wake it is to find yourself sore on both your neck and in between your legs, that your glasses have been folded up neatly upon your bedside cabinet and after popping them on you realize that your <em>underwear,</em>  which has been ripped into shreds is now just about visible over the top of the wastebasket that is in your room and you are in your more <em>modest</em> pyjamas. Dracula must have carried you and tucked you up in bed, before he’d left. You wonder if he’d <em>thought</em> about anything as he’d looked down at you or if he’d been too <em>quenched</em> to do so all that much. You get out of bed and stiffly walk over to check yourself in the mirror. A large purple bruise has sprouted upon your neck-Dracula must have drunk <em>more</em> from you this time-and you think that you better find some way of hiding it before your mother can see. You curse Dracula for not being overly careful as well, as you get out your make-up bag and find some way of fixing it. You feel more <em>determined</em> than in a bad mood and because of what had happened with Dracula the previous night you will probably have a while, before you feel angry again-the scientific part of your mind has taken to recording such things, first pretty accurately and since time has gone by more roughly. Maybe hours or even <em>days</em>…that is what you <em>think</em> that you have anyway.   </p><p> </p><p>Your phone vibrates. It is not on the bedside cabinet as it normally would be, before you go to sleep, but on the floor as if someone had batted it down there in frustration and when you pick it up there is now a large scratch down the centre of the screen as well that had been more than likely caused by a pointed fingernail. On the phone there is not <em>only</em> one new message that you have to read and it must have been buzzing throughout the night you think. You hope that your parents hadn’t heard. Your mother would have probably thought that they’re all from Dracula even though they seem to be from Lucy, which kind of disappoints you even though you <em>know</em> that you are being irrational after all the attention he’d given you the previous night, but he doesn’t text you as much as he used to any more and even a <em>knowing</em> quip about the night before would have been better than nothing. </p><p> </p><p>Ignoring all of Lucy’s taunts about how you must have been at some posh event the previous night and think yourself too good for them now as <em>well</em> as the link that she has sent you to the album of the night from her Facebook page with the words: <em>‘Bet you couldn't do this wherever you were at,’</em> you text Dracula hopefully: <em>Tonight again?</em>     </p><p> </p><p><strong>I would have thought that</strong> someone <strong>would need her beauty sleep after last night?</strong>  His text comes just a few minutes later-in capital letters of course-when you’re finishing off applying your make-up to the purple bruise and checking it in the mirror to see if you’ve done a good job. It looks okay to you. </p><p> </p><p><em>I'm fine.</em> Your anger flares up all too soon and whilst you feel disappointed by its presence you also <em>wish</em> that he wouldn’t treat you so delicately and like how all your friends and family seem to view you-so fragile and distant from the <em>‘real’</em> world. Like something that has to be preserved or can’t <em>cope</em> with what others go through.  It <em>can’t</em> be natural for someone of his kind to mostly treat you like that and you wonder if he’s got <em>anyone</em> else who he lets his vampire side out on <em>all</em> of the time?</p><p> </p><p><strong>Still, I'm afraid that you’ll have to rest. I’ve got things to do tonight. Tomorrow maybe?</strong> He adds a couple of kisses to his message as if <em>that</em> will make it any better. You don’t reply for a few minutes, not sure what to say. All you know is that you feel a great <em>surge</em> of disenchantment with him inside your chest like a tidal wave that has black edges to it and the capital letters that he insists on writing every text with don’t help matters either. It feels like you can still see his words even after you’ve looked away. Your phone vibrating in your hands brings your attention back to it. <strong>You gone back to sleep? I'm going myself now. Have a good day, darling.</strong>  </p><p> </p><p><em>“ ‘Darling,’”</em> you mutter, wondering if that’s <em>really</em> how he sees you any more or if he’s just like that with everyone? <em>Going out tonight?</em> You impulsively text Lucy.  </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Determined to forget what is or <em>isn’t</em> going on between Dracula and you and <em>hating</em> the way that he’s blowing hot and cold and the way that, <em>that</em> in turn is making you feel, you enter the club with Lucy and all your other friends. </p><p> </p><p>Lucy in particular seems to be <em>thrilled</em> that you are there and wearing contact lenses in an unnatural green colour for a change, even though they make your eyes feel itchy. Although you’re a bit wary about Lucy’s enthusiasm because it hasn’t worked out well in the past for you, you’re <em>trying</em> to be hopeful that you won’t let <em>anything</em> that she does get to you that night. That mindset works out well enough until you all enter the club and she gestures at you with a wide hand, her fingernails painted and says, “F/N’s got a secret lover! I'm surprised that she could even <em>be</em> here tonight since we’re her second choice. I guess she must have argued with him…”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not true,” you try and protest over the loud music, turning your back on the pulsing, rhythmic laser lights, but the others seem to be <em>far</em> more focused on the <em>first</em> part of Lucy’s words and look at you questioningly. One of the girls nudges you, already a little tipsy by that point and she has <em>clearly</em> been drinking, <em>before</em> she came out. You make a little growling noise in your throat and can <em>feel</em> your patience sliding. Lucy had been keen to know <em>where</em> you were the previous night and after you’d huffily told her that there <em>was</em> no posh event she’d come to hastily drawn conclusions of her own. Conclusions that had led to her shooting you all these little conspiratory glances on your way there and which you’d <em>tried</em> to ignore, but the jewels around her eyes had helped to make her stare feel all the <em>more</em> prominent.  </p><p> </p><p>“None of it is real,” you mutter a little pathetically, thinking that it’s <em>only</em> half a lie after all and you’re <em>really</em> not sure about the other part any longer, before you hit the bar harder than you usually would and find yourself rotating between there and the dance floor, dancing until your hair sizzles in the light, not giving yourself <em>any</em> time to think as you brush up against body after body and keep wishing that it was <em>Dracula</em> who was in front of you. You <em>are</em> cheered up a bit though when Lucy seems to be exchanging her <em>own</em> mysterious messages with someone and the attention shifts to <em>her</em> rather than to your carefree behaviour, before you all go back to dancing again. </p><p> </p><p>*  </p><p> </p><p>An hour or so later and you’re exhausted against the bar. You don’t have it in you to dance any longer and your glass seems to be persistently empty-both the one in front of you <em>and</em> the one in your mind-the bar tender and any solace that you might be able to find just out of reach. Rather than waiting to be served again and not knowing <em>where</em> your friends have gotten to you decide that it would be a good idea to leave for home. You heave yourself up, nearly falling off the stool as you do so, and stagger out of there, pushing your way through all the bodies. </p><p> </p><p>You have <em>no</em> idea what time it is, but it’s properly dark now. The kind where every sound is larger and more ominous than before. Street lights glow and flicker, almost seeming to <em>protest</em> with their racket as you walk beneath them. You think that you hear some kind of snuffling sound in an alleyway and give it a wide berth, quickly making for the graveyard where you’d first met Dracula so that you will be able to take your shortcut home. </p><p> </p><p>It’s cold there. The bushes and trees shift, as if they might be following your progress and the small hairs on the back of your neck seem to be permanently standing on end. In an attempt to reassure yourself you walk loudly down the concrete path and your breath mists out in front of you, looking cloudy in the night. There is no moon and you can’t see the stars because of the pollution of the city. You wonder if Dracula misses them? Wonder what he had to <em>do</em> that night?-</p><p> </p><p>You hear something suddenly and freeze, before you wind your way among the gravestones instead. You think that you can hear the low murmur of voices. Your breath catches in your throat when your foot snaps a twig in half and then you spot them. Dracula is sitting on a bench and Lucy is straddling him. All the dark feelings inside you begin to well up, but you try and banish them by wondering about whether you might be able to get past them without them noticing. </p><p> </p><p><em>“F/N,</em> I can see you,” Dracula says in an almost singsong voice. He pushes Lucy off him at the glare that you undoubtedly give him, but what annoys you the <em>most</em> is that she had been in an intimate position with him on the bench that he and <em>you</em> had first spoken to one another properly on.<br/>
You take a couple of steps over there and Dracula and Lucy face you. All you notice is that Lucy looks surprised to see you, before you are sick in between two of the headstones.<br/>
“Have some respect!” Dracula groans and you lift your head to look up at him darkly, before you vomit again.<br/>
Lucy makes a lot of disgusted sounds mixed in with laughter at the idea that <em>you</em> of all people might actually be <em>that</em> drunk, but all your body can focus on in that moment is the fact that you are being sick and the cold hand that you suddenly feel brushing your hair back from your face, before it rests peacefully upon your back. Just the <em>feel</em> of it makes you retch the last of your stomach contents up.<br/>
“There, there,” Dracula’s more soothing voice sounds. “I <em>know</em> you’ve had a bit of a shock”-      </p><p> </p><p>“Get off me!” You shrug the vampire aggressively off of you and spin around to face him, nearly vomiting again as you do so. His hands rise either side of his head and he takes a couple of quick steps back from you, looking annoyed at your rejection of him and like he could quickly lose his temper with you in <em>turn</em> should you carry on in this way. Lucy looks between the pair of you. <em>“Lucy,</em> Drac? So <em>this</em> is what you were doing tonight, or should I say <em>who?”</em> In a haughty fashion you wipe the remaining sick off your mouth with the back of your hand, flicking it away, still trying to maintain some dignity <em>despite</em> how pathetic you must look. </p><p> </p><p>“You tart,” Lucy adds in a disapproving fashion to Dracula. “Though it’s nice to know that you’re <em>really</em> as pompous as I thought you were, F/N.” She looks back at you.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Hungry,”</em> he croons back to her and you feel a little <em>hurt</em> at the clear energy that is between them and the idea that after your many conversations and feelings of connection to him he might <em>only</em> see you as food after all. </p><p> </p><p>“I thought you were <em>picky?</em> A <em>‘connoisseur’</em> of blood? I suppose she reminds you of your upper-class life. At least <em>I</em> don’t have to ask who tastes better,” she adds cattily with a toss of her head back. Her hair bounces. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Lucy,”</em> Dracula looks back at her after throwing you a glance, “There’s no need to be <em>rude</em> now, is there?”   </p><p> </p><p>“It’s fine,” you fold your arms coolly, even though on the inside this feels significantly <em>worse</em> than every time you go to the club with all your friends and you feel dented for some stupid reason that he doesn’t like the taste of you as much, “I don’t care.” </p><p> </p><p>“Aw, I think she’s <em>fallen</em> for you Drac-u-la,” Lucy says in a babyish voice. She clutches at him and you <em>try</em> not to look at where her hand is upon the bulging muscle of his upper arm too much, but your eyes are drawn to the sight and seem to want to spite you.   </p><p> </p><p>“I think you should have a bit more respect for me,” you find yourself saying to her as you <em>finally</em> tear your eyes away from Dracula’s arm. Her eyebrows rise, as she lets go of him and you feel a gleam of triumph inside you. “You too.” You look at Dracula now, but he doesn’t seem <em>annoyed</em> by what you’ve just said and on the contrary looks at you with something that is akin to <em>pride</em> about his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Always <em>knew</em> that you had it in you,” Dracula says, “Look at what I’ve helped to bring out.”</p><p> </p><p>“What do you <em>mean?”</em> Lucy sounds perturbed and you <em>also</em> feel surprised and annoyed that he’s taking credit for something that <em>you</em> feel you have done yourself. </p><p> </p><p>“To understand that you’ll have to <em>know</em> what I see in her,” he talks to Lucy, but tosses his head at you, “Why I drink her blood.” Lucy shrugs as if she isn’t bothered and couldn't care less either way. Dracula looks impatient with her for about a second, before he whispers something into her ear. You shift your position, wondering what is going on and feeling vulnerable about the fact that they might be talking about you.   </p><p> </p><p> “All right,” Lucy looks at you and seems to steady herself for a moment, “You have everything that you need already, F/N. I don’t see <em>why</em> you have to have this little <em>tart</em> taking your blood as well unless you think that, <em>that</em> is what it means to give to charity?”- </p><p> </p><p>“And what would <em>you</em> know about giving to charity? Don’t <em>you</em> have everything that you need as well?” it just comes out of you without a thought. You feel surprised by your words and look between Lucy and Dracula. He <em>looks</em> like he’s enjoying himself…   </p><p> </p><p>It’s quick, but you <em>just</em> about spot Dracula as he nudges at Lucy with his elbow. “All right,” she rubs at her arm, before she turns her attention to you. “At least <em>I'm</em> myself!” she sounds more heated now. “You try and pretend to be someone that you’re not by hanging around with us and you’re not <em>even</em> wearing your glasses tonight. Why can’t you be <em>yourself?”-</em> </p><p> </p><p>“Because of people like my parents and <em>you!”</em> you yell, again finding that your words come from somewhere deep down within you and once more you feel shocked by their release. “I tried to do what they wanted and it wasn’t me and I’ve <em>tried</em> to go along with your friends and you as well, but that’s not me <em>either,”</em> you are frustrated about the fact.   </p><p> </p><p>Lucy and Dracula both survey you grimly for a moment. “Do you see?” he asks Lucy. She nods, looking up at him. “Good, then you can go.” You see the surprise that forms on Lucy’s face. <em>“You</em> heard me,” he says more roughly.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you should have more respect for Lucy as well,” you can’t help but say. </p><p> </p><p>“Wait a moment, F/N”- </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t <em>need</em> you standing up for me. It’s a bit too late after what you’ve just said anyway,” Lucy takes her frustration out on you. She takes a bit of a breath and looks up at the vampire. “All right,” she murmurs more calmly, but there is a dangerous undertone to her voice, “I’ll go, but remember who’s the best whilst you’re screwing her won’t you? And <em>don’t</em> come crying to me when she won’t let you drink all that much. I was going to give you <em>five</em> minutes tonight.” She snaps her head away from Dracula’s exasperated face and begins to walk. “Have fun, but remember that he prefers me,” she says out of the corner of her voice as she passes you.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Lucy,”</em> Dracula warns, but Lucy just waves a hand in a <em>disobedient</em> kind of acknowledgement and then makes her way back to the concrete path again.</p><p> </p><p>You can tell by the way that Dracula puts one foot in front of the other that he would like to sprint after her in that moment and tell him, “Go on then.” Dracula slides his foot back, so that both are in an even position, before he looks frustratedly at you. You <em>don’t</em> want to be around him any more. “I'm telling you, you should. You ask for <em>her</em> consent, so you <em>clearly</em> have more respect for her than you do me.” Tears bubble up in your voice and your nose feels suddenly blocked. Yet you don't want to look <em>weak</em> in front of him-ironic as that is because <em>everyone</em> to him is prey-and curl your hands up into fists. </p><p> </p><p>“F/N-F/N, <em>every</em> bride is different,” Dracula coos. “There’s no need to get upset about what you don’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Bride?”</em> you question him, peering up at him and your hands get pinned against his chest as he wraps his strong arms around you. His nostrils flare when he detects your pulse elevating. But he does <em>not</em> look completely satisfied and steps back, so that he can study you in more detail. You lower your hands again. </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, that is what I would like <em>both</em> Lucy and you to be.” Your eyes widen for a moment, though a voice in the back of your head tells you that you should have <em>seen</em> such a thing coming from the moment that you’d met and you think that you should have been <em>careful</em> about what you wished for earlier-Dracula <em>may</em> have just admitted to you that he doesn't see you as food alone, but will being his bride <em>be</em> any better? Part of you craves it, whilst the other feels apprehensive about it all and what it will <em>truly</em> mean. “The pair of you are precious to me,” Dracula goes on. “I usually have <em>three</em> brides.” He looks thoughtful for a moment. You can’t <em>know</em> that he’s thinking about how he would like <em>Zoe Van Helsing</em> as his bride as well, but how <em>that,</em> due to her cancer diagnosis and the fact that he can’t drink her blood without it killing him in turn, doesn’t seem like it will be happening now. “Lucy is fearless and doesn’t <em>care</em> about death”- he gets his mind back on track.</p><p> </p><p>“But she does. I'm <em>telling</em> you that she must do. Haven’t you detected it in her blood? She can’t <em>really</em> be so uncaring”- Your mind is reeling with everything. </p><p> </p><p>He looks at you frostily for a moment, before he suddenly breaks out into a toothy grin. “I <em>love</em> it when you show me the bride you can be. I’ve decided F/N.” You sense that he’s talking about Lucy now. “She’s like <em>no</em> one I’ve ever seen in my five hundred plus years, but let’s not count those extra ones, shall we?” He looks at you cheekily for a moment, before his gaze grows tenderer. <em>“You</em> aren't like any other as well.” His gaze hones on in you in a more predatory fashion and you gulp a little. “Did you <em>feel</em> the anger inside of you just now?” he sounds like a scientist asking someone whose just done a trial. “How you couldn't <em>control</em> the words that were coming out of your mouth? How for a moment you felt <em>fearless?”</em> You feel like your body is doing what you don’t want it to <em>again</em> when you end up nodding at him. “The way that you seem to be affected from me <em>only</em> drinking a few drops of your blood is different than anything I’ve ever encountered before. I’ve had poor reactions sure, but <em>never</em> something like this and which at the same time seems to bring out the fight in you. Isn't that wonderful?” he grins a little manically. “Yet the light <em>always</em> seems to push through in your blood. It’s like a constant battle that’s going on inside of you.” He looks at you in wonder. Your eyebrows rise at him and his do to meet the challenge that you are providing for him. “How do you think I <em>knew</em> to push your hair away from your face when you were sick? I saw your mother doing the same thing when I drank from you.” Your face softens ever so slightly at that.</p><p> </p><p>“Its been <em>years</em> since I’ve remembered things like that,” you explain to him. </p><p> </p><p>“Blood is lives, F/N. It’s in you whether your mind dredges it up or not. I don’t know <em>what</em> quality inside of you will become victorious, but the inner strength that you seem to have and that others before me have doubted makes me feel <em>sure</em> that you will be one of my most successful brides yet.” You feel suddenly warm. Does he <em>really</em> think that you’re strong? </p><p> </p><p>“So what are you going to do <em>now?”</em> The mood shifts between you, as you don’t think about the consequences for either Lucy or yourself in that moment.  </p><p> </p><p>“I'm going to make you take <em>those</em> out.” He bridges the gap between you and gestures to your contact lenses.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“Why?”</em> you ask him. </p><p> </p><p>“Because selfishly I prefer you with glasses,” he admits as if that should be obvious to you. You hesitate. <em>“Well,</em>  do it then.” He nods impatiently at you. </p><p> </p><p>“But I don’t <em>have</em> my glasses”- you protest.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“I</em> do.” He whips out where he’s been keeping them behind his black pocket-handkerchief. You gape at him. “Your significant other should <em>always</em> carry your spare pair for you darling, just in case of emergencies like this,” he’s back to the teasing and light tone that you are most familiar with.</p><p> </p><p><em>“ ‘Significant</em> other,’ huh?” You can’t help but like what he’s just said, but <em>not</em> wanting him to grow <em>too</em> smug from the thing you bend your head and peel the contact lenses from your eyes. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Mmmhmm.”</em> Dracula takes them from you and tosses them away. </p><p> </p><p>“Those were expensive!” you protest, leaning forwards to see if you can see where they've landed upon the grass, but they are <em>tiny</em> and you aren't able to see much without assistance in any case. </p><p> </p><p>Dracula pushes you back with a few fingers firmly on your breastbone. “You look <em>much</em> prettier without them,” he assures you. </p><p> </p><p>You let out a sigh and accept the fact that he’s <em>never</em> going to let you retrieve them. It’s lucky then that you’ve never much liked them, though you <em>can’t</em> help but think about the surprise that someone might get if they come across them. He offers you your glasses and you take them from him. He lets you use his pocket-handkerchief to wipe them and then you give it back to him and pop the glasses on. You stare up at him. “You <em>really</em> prefer me this way?” you’re sceptical about the fact. He nods, looking <em>much</em> happier to see you with your glasses back on. “But aren't you worried about getting bad eyesight if you keep drinking from me?”</p><p> </p><p>“It doesn’t work like that, my dear. I just take the skills that I want.” You mull that over for a moment, whilst Dracula looks at you in amusement. You take Dracula’s arm when he offers it to you and the pair of you begin to walk out of the graveyard, heading in the direction that you had been making towards initially and <em>not</em> the one that Lucy had gone for.  </p><p> </p><p>“Lucy’s blood tastes better to you?” You <em>still</em> feel disappointed by such a thing and slip your hand away from him.</p><p> </p><p>He lets out a sigh and you <em>still</em> don't know how that works and how there can be breath inside his body sometimes in spite of the fact that he doesn't <em>actually</em> breathe. “I <em>suppose</em> because I'm immortal the idea of this little creature with a deadline to their own life being so reckless <em>is</em> appealing to me, <em>as</em> is the potential that I see inside of <em>you,</em> which is why your blood is so precious to me.” </p><p> </p><p>“But how are you going to <em>know</em> the potential of it and what you seem to want to find out if you <em>never”-</em>   </p><p> </p><p>“You <em>want</em> me to rip your throat out?” Dracula peers down at you, just as you leave the graveyard and he seems surprised, but there is something <em>lustful</em> in his eyes that acts as a warning to you that you shouldn't tempt him and his cold hand snakes around your back at the same time. “There’ll be <em>plenty</em> of time for me to do that later. Eternal life, remember?” </p><p> </p><p>“I <em>want</em> you to treat me less delicately,” you huff at him, fed up of his teasing in that moment, and <em>wanting</em> him to tell you that you're strong as well, you pull away from him a little, “Just like I want <em>everyone</em> to do.” You feel his <em>own</em> darkness getting threateningly close to the surface at your clingy and goading behaviour and your pulse jumps. You quicken your pace, starting to go down one of London’s many streets, but Dracula grabs at your wrist and turns you back towards him.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Don’t</em> do that. I’ve already let Lucy go tonight. If <em>you</em> run as well”- Your mouth tumbles open when you see red blossoming in his eyes and his fangs sharpening. He shakes his head feverishly, <em>evidently</em> trying to get himself under control and he flexes his fingers <em>too,</em> whilst his mouth snarls and hisses. You don’t pay attention to any of the commuters that are already about. <em>All</em> you can focus on is the monster that is before you. Thankfully it is like none of the other pedestrians notice you.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Sunshine</em> Drac,” you say, your mouth turning dry. You don’t know <em>where</em> your words come from either, but you’ve <em>heard</em> him gush over the sun before and it just <em>feels</em> like the right thing to say in that moment. You try and get your hammering heart under control <em>too,</em>  knowing it won’t help matters if you don’t. “You said that you wouldn’t do it”-Dracula snarls a little again, his head twisting in protest-<em>“Yet!”</em> you add hurriedly. “Eternal life, remember?” you try and buy yourself more time.   </p><p> </p><p> <em>“Your</em> blood is what sunshine would be like if it had a taste”-Dracula makes a new meaning out of your older words and you quiver. His grip tightens on you for a moment and you feel <em>sure</em> that this is the end of your life and  <em>wish</em> that you could have had one final conversation with <em>both</em> Lucy and your mother, before it had come. <em>Both</em> Lucy and you are out of your depth, <em>that</em> is what you sense in that moment, and your mother and you are so similar, which is <em>why</em> you don’t get along, and <em>probably</em> the same reason that you have conflict with Lucy as well. <em>Why</em> couldn't you have just gotten along with one another instead of being so <em>petty</em> about your modern lives? You could have realized that Lucy and you were <em>both</em> being targeted by Dracula sooner and helped one another through such a thing. You brace yourself and almost close your eyes. But then Dracula’s hold on you loosens and his eyes revert back to their normal colour, as if your realizations have calmed you and so calmed him in turn. His mouth closes and you sense that his fangs are becoming blunted again. He seems a little hazy for a moment and then he is able to see you properly. “You’re right,” he says reverently, stroking at your pulse in reassurance now and you let out a breath in relief, “It <em>would</em> be an abomination to drain you all at once. I shall make you last. In any case it is so <em>rare</em> that I get life-changing knowledge that I might as well stretch it out.” You’re not really <em>sure</em> if you like the idea of that <em>either, </em> but at least he has spared your life for now. Right in that moment that is <em>enough</em> of a blessing in itself for you and as you continue walking and reach the middle of a bridge that overlooks the Thames and come to a halt, standing side-by-side and peering out across the water you let out another breath, this time one of <em>appreciation.</em>  Dracula chuckles a little and the sound of it is like music in the night to you, even if it <em>does</em> make the hairs on the back of your neck rise on end. In the next moment he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, marking you as his, but not yet <em>consuming</em> you…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Coming up next: The second scenario with a different version of Reader who puts on a show for Dracula. :) </p><p>Thanks for reading so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Parade and Punishment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks so much for your support. :)</p><p>I hope you enjoy the beginning to this alternative scenario. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If he had a working heart then it would have stopped. He’d left Lucy in a dream of ecstasy, or so he’d <em>thought,</em> but looking up at the apartment window, <em>your</em> apartment window, Count Dracula wonders if <em>he</em> hasn’t just slipped into something similar himself. He’s had occasional instances <em>where,</em> waking at sunset, he’s found himself aching for you [though he cannot get <em>hard</em> without drinking blood and feels particularly <em>ravenous</em> until he can satisfy both these things]. At such times he’d had to rush out, if he’d been at your apartment, without even a, ‘Hello,’ or a, ‘Good evening, darling,’ <em>certain</em> that you would be able to detect something different about him and question it if he stayed too long. He’d been forced to make such an escape that night. Your voice and footsteps had followed him to the door and your pulse had risen-he’d heard it from feet away and <em>always</em> seems to be tuned into it-but you hadn’t chased him outside. You had <em>far</em> more self-respect than that-it’s <em>one</em> thing for your neighbours to hear you rowing through the wall, another for them to see you flouncing after him-or so he’d thought… </p><p> </p><p>His ebony hair flutters a little as he lifts his head more attentively towards the square window. It is not very big, but <em>large</em> enough for him to see what he needs to, what <em>you</em> want him to, especially since the light is on as well. The maroon drapes hang like a stage curtain on either side and in between them your naked form flits past. You don’t look out as you do such a thing, but you <em>must</em> be aware that he could be back at any time now and the little sway of your hips that you give seems to <em>confirm</em> it. You are young and vibrant. He can <em>hear</em> your pulse from there, whilst his eyes seem to pick out the tantalizing freckles that you have on your skin like sunspots. He does not <em>need</em> to look at your face for he can <em>imagine</em> the little teasing smile that you have upon it and it makes him feel both annoyed and confused all at the same time. You are ordinary, but <em>different</em> too and for a moment he even feels a <em>tinge</em> of admiration for your reckless behaviour and lack of self-regard in a similar way to how he finds Lucy’s lack of fear over her own death alluring. He gazes up, waiting for another image of you to be presented to his eyes and looking like he might do towards the <em>real</em> sun if he ever had a chance to see it first hand. A light in the corner of his eye calls for his attention, however, and blinking a little in frustration he whirls around. </p><p> </p><p>On the opposite side of the street, in the apartment that is level with yours, there is a light on. A young man, hardly out of his teenage years by the looks of his floppy hair and fading acne, sits hunched in the window, a grin on his face as he lowers the pair of binoculars that he’d been looking through. Dracula may not have a heart, but he feels a <em>flare</em> of irritation all the same and a rumbling growl threatens to escape him. Your predicament suddenly seems like something that <em>cannot</em> be respected at all. He watches as the man-child moves away from the window. In the next second the light gets switched off. Having a good idea of what is going on Dracula marches to the corner of the street that is on the same side as the man’s apartment and waits. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>He’s late. You stop parading around your apartment and slump in the chair that is by the small, circular table, which fills the gap between the kitchenette and living area. You sigh when you see that the curtains are still ajar and half-get up to close them, before you change your mind and sit back down again. Maybe this had been a bad idea. You’d wanted to teach him a lesson, but <em>how</em> can you teach someone who is more than five hundred years old a lesson? You scoff at yourself. You won’t be the <em>first</em> one who has been hanging around waiting for him, you know. In the time that goes by so fast when you are with him Lucy must be waiting for him, and <em>before</em> that, in the centuries that have previously gone by, how many women, or even <em>men,</em> have done exactly the same thing as you now are? Trapped in places of various shapes and sizes? Places that had once perhaps felt like <em>homes,</em> but now feel like the confinement of a prison cell all because of <em>him?</em>  Ever since they’d met him-<em>you’d</em> met him-you’ve been trapped you feel.                 </p><p> </p><p>You remember the breezy smile that he’d given you, the way that he’d kissed at your hand like an old-fashioned gentleman when you’d first met him just outside of Whitby Abbey when you’d been on a break from your administrative work at the Jonathan Harker Foundation. You remember the fevered kisses that had followed upon your neck, but everything seems to have become <em>more</em> complicated since you’d agreed to go to the city with him. Before that, in Whitby, things had felt fresher. Even <em>though</em> all your thoughts had been of him since your first encounter with him it had been as if you’d had <em>more</em> space to think. In the city it is like the realities of being with a vampire have fully set in. You <em>are,</em> theoretically speaking, spending <em>more</em> time with one another since <em>he’d</em>-with the help of his disapproving lawyer who wants him all for himself you think-acquired the apartment for you and decorated it with <em>both</em> of your tastes, but you are more isolated and less distracted. You are <em>still</em> working for the foundation, but in a different area where you are supposed to be keeping an eye on Dracula and texting them about all his behaviour and movements. You have kept your messages vague, feeling <em>torn, </em> the more that you have learnt about the foundation and grown to like Dracula. You <em>also</em> think that Dracula is aware of the arrangement as <em>well,</em> which puts you off from saying all that much. He could rip your throat out and dispose of you <em>quite</em> easily if he wanted to. Naturally you want to stay alive. The fact that your job <em>now,</em> revolves around him completely, means that you have long hours in the day that are free as well, for Dracula is asleep at that point. You <em>had</em> started to think a little <em>too</em> much about the entire situation and had wondered if <em>Zoe,</em> your former boss, would have replied had you tried to get in touch with her. In the end you <em>hadn’t</em>-she wasn’t the most approachable of people and you feel <em>sure</em> that she would have been most disapproving about your growing romantic feelings for Dracula and warned you off him. Jack Seward, who you’d confided in a little and who had been a blood donor at the foundation, <em>before</em> Dracula had been released had encouraged you to meet up with him and Lucy Westenra, a girl who is two years younger than you, at a club one night to get your mind off it all, but upon doing so you had <em>not</em> been very impressed by her and had <em>wondered</em> how Jack could be so in love with her as he apparently is. <em>Dracula,</em> who had insisted on going along too-and so you’d not <em>really</em> had a break from him at all-had grown fond of her as well and you’d wondered if only the <em>male</em> species is able to see her worth and something still <em>burns</em> inside of you at how a spark had immediately formed between them. That had been <em>another</em> thing that had made you <em>hate</em> how dependant you have become on Count Dracula, though you <em>know</em> that it’s nobody’s fault, but your <em>own</em> really. You’d started to want him since the <em>moment</em> that he’d kissed your hand. You would have gone along with this, no matter <em>what</em> the case had been.  </p><p> </p><p>You hear a rattle at the door. Dracula is <em>usually</em> quiet, but he doesn’t seem to <em>care</em> about being so in that moment and wipes the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. He doesn't drink much from you, but the little that he <em>has</em> taken has made it harder for you to come to any kind of conclusion or to see any <em>answer</em> to all the thoughts that you have been having. Knowing and seeing the <em>evidence</em> that he's been drinking from other people-Lucy more than likely-<em>also</em> spikes your jealousy. </p><p> </p><p>“Showing off?" you can't help but say. "Or have you gone <em>so</em> feral that you’ve forgotten to even put <em>on</em> the illusion of being a gentleman now?”  </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve told you before," Dracula growls, "There’s no such thing as a gentleman. <em>Or</em> a lady apparently…” Hand still close to his mouth and nostrils flaring ever so slightly his eyes flicker towards you. The red that he would have had in them, whilst he fed, is fading. His words are the only <em>hint</em> that he’s noticed your nakedness. There is no widening of the eyes or even an <em>attempt</em> to flirt with you, but then he can ignore these things when he wants to well enough. Maybe he just doesn’t <em>care,</em>  you can’t help but think and ordinarily, and in any <em>normal</em> relationship, you would have left when thinking such a thing, but the problem comes back to what it always does at the end of the day-Dracula is a <em>vampire.</em> God knows <em>what</em> he’d do to you if you tried to leave. He probably wants you as a free meal at least. “Was that your <em>heart</em> skipping a beat that I heard? You’ve got every <em>right</em> to be nervous, F/N.” </p><p> </p><p>“Shut up Drac,” you mumble, but <em>know</em> that the comment won’t have passed him by and this seems to be confirmed by the way that he <em>glowers</em> as he strides across the room.  <em>“You’re</em> the one who’s back later than usual,” you can’t resist adding <em>despite</em> the trouble that you know you’re already in and he snaps the curtains shut. “Lucy provided a <em>lot</em> for you tonight, did she?”</p><p> </p><p><em>“More</em> than you’re giving to me right now sweetheart.” He turns to face you, mouth slightly bared, fangs blunted, but you’re <em>aware</em> in that moment that he is reminding you of their presence and how you <em>shouldn't</em> push him too far if you know what’s good for you. For a moment it works and he chuckles at the way that your pulse shimmers, but his laughter lifts your annoyance with him right back up again. </p><p> </p><p>“You can always go back there.” You wave a hand. </p><p> </p><p>“Do you <em>know</em> what you look like right now?” His eyes slide down your form briefly. </p><p> </p><p>“You paraded stark naked in front of a load of nuns once Drac”-</p><p> </p><p>“You look like a jealous, <em>mad</em> woman who they would have locked up in an asylum years ago,” he acts as if you had not spoken and you realize that how he has described you is <em>exactly</em> what you look like. Dracula seems to <em>know</em> where your thoughts are going and becomes more casual, a grin on his face as he strides past you with a hand in the pocket of his suit trousers. “There is <em>also</em> the fact that you look like a meal of course.” He swivels to stand behind you. He places his large hands upon your shoulders, flexing his fingers up a little so that his long nails don’t dig into your flesh. You swallow, which Dracula finds amusing. <em>“Now</em> why would you draw attention to your body in this way?” he toys with you. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Drac”-</em> you croak. </p><p> </p><p>“Hush darling. Let me get the scent of what I’ll be tasting.” He inhales you and you quiver against him. “You’re spoiling the vintage. All that fright. All that <em>fear”-</em></p><p> </p><p> “You <em>can’t</em> drain me,” the words trip out of your mouth automatically.    </p><p> </p><p><em>“Why</em> is that?” he sounds entertained. </p><p> </p><p>“You told me that you needed me here”- For what reason you don't know. </p><p> </p><p>“I'm <em>allowed</em> to change my mind aren't I?” He shrugs, fingernails tapping against you, but thankfully <em>not</em> with the intent to release any blood from your skin. You <em>know</em> they easily could though and that frightens you. “You should be aware that there are no rules with beasts like me and in this case I’d have <em>every</em> reason to let my previous words slide.” He wanders to stand in front of you, both hands casually in his pockets now. You know that he has rules and that what he has just said is a lie, but you aren't about to tell him that in that moment. Instead you take a little comfort from the fact that he’s a couple of steps away, though you <em>know</em> that, that’s hardly any gap at all when a super fast vampire is concerned. “Been on your phone a lot of late. Reporting back to the <em>foundation</em> are you? Is that the <em>only</em> reason that you’re here?”  </p><p> </p><p>“No of course not.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe the little show that you put on <em>wasn’t</em> for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course it was. Who <em>else</em> would it have been for?” Your throat is incredibly dry.</p><p> </p><p>“The little man across the street who I had fun devouring”-</p><p> </p><p>“I-You”- The casual way that he says such a thing stuns you.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought we had an <em>arrangement</em> F/N? I give you everything that you need as long as you stay here with me”-</p><p> </p><p>"You've never been that specific about <em>why"-</em></p><p> </p><p>Dracula makes a growling sound and pushes closer to your body. His eyes gaze down at you heatedly. You take a hurried step back from him. He smirks, grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you to him. </p><p> </p><p>“All right, <em>yes,</em> the foundation wants me to keep an eye on you”-Dracula smirks at the expression-“But I’ve <em>barely</em> been telling them anything because <em>I”-</em> time seems to stop between you both for a moment, as you hover on the edge of a confession, but then rapidly change your mind-“What about <em>Lucy?”</em> Your face and collarbone are red underneath his stare and frustrated by your change in direction he licks at his lips and grows ever more hungry for you. His blood pools south and he feels frustrated that he hasn’t taken care of <em>that</em> particular need yet. He thought that he had with Lucy, but then he’d seen you and eaten again and now that you are in front of him like this it has returned… </p><p> </p><p>“You <em>know</em> that I need to feed from other people. I have explained it all to you”- He rakes a hand through his hair and then drags your arm until your hand is touching his back, curling automatically to be close to him in spite of yourself. Your breath shakes in between the pair of you and Dracula grows harder still. </p><p> </p><p>“Because I don't give you enough”- you begin to recount. </p><p> </p><p>“And I want to save you. Yes, my dear.” Trying to focus on the conversation alone now he brushes some hair back from your face. You gape up at him, succulent lips a little parted. <em>“However”-</em> Dracula clasps your fingers in between his and begins to lead you in a dance. Your heart skips a beat and every part of you that he is touching feels more heated than it did before, but everywhere else is cold and prickled with goosebumps. You do an odd little jaunty waltz around the main living area together and you feel slightly sick. “You had <em>no</em> business leaving the curtain open tonight. Letting other men see what’s <em>mine</em> just because you can’t <em>cope</em> with who I am and <em>what</em> I have to do.”    </p><p> </p><p> “I-You <em>killed</em> a man though. You didn’t even need to <em>feed</em> off him. You only did it because of what <em>I</em> did.” You can’t get over that fact.   </p><p> </p><p>“Yes, <em>we</em> killed a man,” he says and your face blanches. “You <em>drove</em> me to this F/N.” </p><p> </p><p><em>“I”-</em>Your head is spinning. Mind racing. You don’t know what to do. Do you <em>really</em> have so much power over him and is he <em>really</em> going to kill every time that you take a step out of line? You can’t <em>think</em> properly about it in that moment, but you <em>know</em> that as soon as he leaves or falls asleep or whatever then it’s going to be something that plays on your mind for a very long time. For now you ask him, “What are you going to do with me?” He dips you at the end of the imaginary song, seeming to consider your question for a moment, his chin close to your breasts.</p><p> </p><p>Then, with a wide grin that reveals his fangs, he murmurs, “I'm going to have to <em>punish</em> you my sweet.” He scoops you up and carries you to your bedroom.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Turned</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a warning that there is some strong sexual content in this chapter. I have updated the rating and tags accordingly. Please check them if you are not sure whether you want to read this chapter or not. </p><p>Thanks so much for your support. :3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Smack!</em> The sound reverberates around the large and comfortable bedroom, the style of which is <em>entirely</em> Dracula’s design and you gasp out. </p><p> </p><p>Across the dark wooden floor the four-poster bed, at the back of the room in the centre, has its dark drapes tugged back. Upon the ruffled light-grey silk sheets [Dracula doesn’t <em>need</em> any more covering other than that and had not <em>thought</em> that his preference of how the sheets remind him of fine, expensive clothing and the softest, supplest human skin, <em>your</em> skin, would not be shared by you. In his mind he was offering you a <em>compliment.]</em> Just before the plush, white pillow, which has been placed before the dark panelled headboard, sits the vampire, his legs crossed and a frown of consternation upon his face as he draws his long and elegant fingers away from the wobbling bottom that they have just slapped <em> [yours] </em> and into the air. Your bottom is on his lap, the rest of you, face-down, on either side of his legs. You try and lift yourself onto all fours, but get another <em>thwack</em> across your rear for all your troubles.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“Let</em> me punish you,” Dracula orders you silkily, not knowing <em>why</em> you won’t let him do this. It is how vampire families have worked for centuries-disobedience must be punished and you have been <em>most</em> disobedient that night. His dark hair is mused. A bead of sweat has run down from his temple to linger on the side of his dark eyes-coffee at its blackest and right now they are also tinged with a swirl of red. Another drop of sweat hovers just above his upper lip, whilst a line of it pools across his collarbone and dips down into the dark, open-necked shirt that he is wearing. His cuffs are loose. Jacket and shoes discarded. Feet bare upon the bed. You try and rise once more. Another slap-sharper this time-makes you groan. <em>“F/N,”</em> Dracula warns. He admits that he’d found your resistance <em>amusing</em> at first. He’d taken a little of your blood to stop you from going on about the apparently unnecessary-although completely <em>vital,</em> in his eyes-<em>death</em> that he’d caused and had swept upon you so fast when he’d first deposited you down on to the bed that you hadn’t <em>really</em> been aware of what had been happening, but instead of making you forget that or even <em>dipping</em> you into a <em>more</em> unconscious and compliant state where he could have been in control and punished you properly in <em>both</em> realities, you’d merely become a little hazy, but maintained an awareness of what was going on. It had almost been as if he’d very lightly spiked your drink and he’d laughed and praised you for your willpower, said something about how you’d <em>still</em> make a fine bride for him yet. You’d asked him if that was <em>why</em> he kept you there. He’d pretended to ignore such a thing, but the pair of you had <em>both</em> known that he’d heard. <em>Nothing</em> escaped his ears. <em>Now,</em> his patience with your theatrics, which had <em>already</em> been limited as it was, is waning. <em>“Why</em> did you leave the curtains open tonight?” He hits you without even properly realizing that he is doing such a thing. You yell out the loudest that you have done so far this time, but he is not paying attention. <em>“Why</em> did you not follow our arrangement?”</p><p> </p><p>“I stayed here”-</p><p> </p><p>“But another man was <em>about</em> to come over. You are only meant to have eyes for <em>me,</em> my precious one.” He hits you again, before he realizes that the <em>reason</em> you are not replying is because you are quite unable to catch your breath and that your skin is stinging because of him. “I forgot how delicate you humans are.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lucy must be stronger than me then?” </p><p> </p><p>Almost incandescent with <em>rage</em> at you mentioning the name of <em>another</em> woman who he hopes to make his bride soon, Dracula jerks your body up and quickly around so that you are facing him. You wheeze and pant into his face at first-your body <em>naturally</em> shocked about being moved so suddenly-but your eyes remain a determined e/c, even as your body relaxes enough in this new position. He stares into your eyes and as he does so is reminded of your first meeting and how <em>beautiful</em> he had first thought you were-as you’d stood overlooking Whitby, your red scarf fluttering in the wind. He is reminded of the fact that you have <em>always</em> been this way-hot-headed and yet so delicate and vulnerable <em>all</em> at the same time. Reminded that as much as this trait is <em>annoying</em> him now it is one of the reasons that he can see the potential in you as a mate. His eyes soften a little, returning to their more natural colour, although they are no <em>less</em> filled with desire for you and his nails stop pressing into your skin as hard as they can <em>without</em> drawing blood. Around the corner of his mouth his lips tweak upwards, so that his eyes begin to <em>shine</em> with light and his face falls more recognisably into that of the vampire that, no matter <em>what</em> he might do to you, you can’t <em>help</em> but love, and <em>that</em> is the thing that is trapping you there <em>most</em> of all, you know in that moment. Your breath gets taken away from you, as his eyes narrow tenderly, before his head swoops towards you and you wish that you will be able to remember the senseless kiss that it feels he is about to bestow on you. At the last moment, however, his face, <em>instead</em> of colliding with yours and crushing your lips against his, diverts and he presses a series of pleasant kisses about your face, that are <em>so</em> cold and numb in their nature, that it makes your body arch against his. You tilt your head back and moan. He pecks you on the underside of your jaw. “Don’t mention Lucy when it’s just us in here again,” his voice is low and you know that it’s nothing more than the equivalent of a nip, a reproach, a warning.</p><p> </p><p>“So <em>I'm</em> not allowed any one else, but you are and I'm not meant to even <em>question</em> the thing?”</p><p> </p><p>Dracula sighs. “You don’t <em>understand</em> how vampires work,” he sounds exasperated now, “Vampires <em>usually</em> have more than one bride at a time. <em>I</em> usually have three. I <em>have</em> to if I want to get anywhere with my plans.”</p><p> </p><p>“So who’s the <em>third</em> person that you’re interested in at the moment then? That’s assuming that I'm even <em>on</em> the list…”     </p><p> </p><p>“F/N, we can either do <em>this,”</em> Dracula jerks you closer still to him and you let out a bit of a gasp at the friction that courses between you, “Or we can do <em>this”- </em> he flicks his hands down to the underside of your thighs and tips you over. You land flat on the bed and feel winded for a moment. He hovers over you, his hands either side of your splayed out hair, his eyes threatening to go red again. “But if we are going to <em>talk</em> right now then it will be on <em>my</em> terms, my darling and <em>not</em> yours.” He hops off the bed with a bit of noise now and has his back facing you, his head tilted in a haunted fashion towards the window, as he stops in front of one of the dark wooden bed posts, which match the floor.                 </p><p> </p><p>“I wouldn’t have thought that you’d <em>mind</em> hearing her name?” You twist your head where you are lying on the bed so that you can half-look at him. “Didn't she please you tonight? Didn't she let you <em>drink</em> for long enough? Is that the <em>real</em> reason why you killed the man? You didn’t get off enough with Lucy and thought that <em>I</em> would finish the job that she started? Would you have been fine with that man on another day? Is all of this happening because she didn’t let you go <em>deep</em> enough?” Dracula growls at your insolent behaviour and your body freezes in an automatic act of self-preservation. You hear him muttering angrily, before the sound of a belt being unbuckled comes. It is quickly followed by the pop of a button and the descending of a zip. It wakes you up enough to realize that Dracula is sliding a hand into his trousers and apparently masturbating. You cannot <em>see</em> what he’s doing clearly from this angle. You sit up on the end of the bed, legs splayed off to the side of you and hair swept over one shoulder, as you try and make out his act in more detail. His shoulders are slightly curved and hunched, his arm pumping vigorously, but you cannot <em>see</em> how his eyes are closed or how he’s biting down upon his lip. You cannot <em>feel</em> the beads of pre-come or the instinctive enjoyment that he is getting from the act of working it out of him. <em>Feel</em> how the last remnants of his patience are literally shimmering in the air between you. You <em>do</em> feel yourself becoming all the <em>more</em> aroused, however, imagining if he were turned to face you, if you could <em>see</em> more fully what he is doing and the expression that is on his face as he is doing it-<em>not</em> being able to feels like the worst kind of punishment in itself-if you could be getting him off together, his hand guiding yours, your body <em>reactively</em> jerking upon the bed and causing the bed’s posts to tremble, before they would know an <em>earthquake</em> when Dracula finally joined you there. You open your eyes, which you hadn’t even <em>realized</em> that you’d shut. “If you don’t want to hear her name or about her right now then you should know that is how I <em>always</em> feel, but I can’t get her out of my head,” you admit to him more honestly in your desperation. Dracula had just given himself a <em>large,</em> downward stroke, but now he stills, cradling himself. If there had been a <em>reason</em> for him to breathe then his shoulders would have been heaving in that moment. “I <em>know</em> you have to feed. I <em>do</em> know that, as much as I wish it was just a myth sometimes,” your voice is the softest that it has been with him all night, “It’s just”-you struggle for a moment now and Dracula feels that his ears are <em>straining</em> to listen in spite of the fact that he is <em>aware</em> that he will be able to pick up every word <em>without</em> him having to do such a thing-“Things have not been the same since we both came to live in the city. <em>Dracula?”</em></p><p> </p><p>“Mm?”</p><p> </p><p>“Would you have brought me here anyway?” you ask him. “Even if I <em>hadn’t</em> consented would it have ended up like this anyway?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your consent is delicious to me, but…<em>yes.</em> I had <em>no</em>  intention to let you stay in Whitby.” He <em>knows</em> that he had wanted you to be as close to him, and readily available, as possible, but barring the <em>convenience</em> of the whole thing it is still a bit of a mystery to him as to <em>why…</em>  </p><p> </p><p>You think about what he has just said for a moment. “How come?” you try and find out that fact again, but once <em>more</em> he doesn’t answer and that makes you feel annoyed. “You should know that you are<br/>
<em>not</em> giving me everything that I need Dracula,” you tell him, “You have <em>not</em> been adhering to the terms of the arrangement for a while.” Dracula listens hard. “You are <em>barely</em> here and when you are I admit that it is not enough for me. Maybe I am getting greedy. You see, it might be selfish of me, and I don’t <em>know</em> if it is the effect of you drinking from me, but when you get home, because I <em>do</em> think of this as your home as well as mine”-that pleases him-“I want it to be all about <em>me.</em> I don’t want to <em>hear</em> Lucy’s name or <em>see</em> anyone else’s blood upon your lips. I want it to be <em>my</em> name-<em>my</em> blood.” Dracula strokes at himself absentmindedly again, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I want to <em>help</em> you with the problem that you’ve got there. I can <em>cope</em> with you feeding elsewhere if I <em>can</em> have all those things. I might be able to cope with all your other brides if I <em>know </em> that <em>I</em> am the main woman-<em>person</em>-in your life.” Throat bobbing Dracula turns around and you get your wish of seeing him from this angle. You <em>see</em> the power in those tense arms, the <em>veins</em> and angry red of the dripping engorged member, which he has just let go of and that is larger and thicker than you have ever seen it be before. You see the <em>way</em> that he has made his entire frame look larger through spreading his feet apart and grounding himself. The fangs that are sharp and just about visible below his upper lip. The <em>look</em> that he has in his reddened, and just about under control, <em>eyes,</em> which are filled with the kind of emotion that you have never seen on his face before-<em>hope</em> as if he has unconsciously been waiting for you to say those words to him for a while and a fiery and determined kind of passion. He takes a couple of steps forwards, almost <em>offering</em> himself to you like he might do with the sun. You hold out your hand in a stop gesture. Some of the emotion fades in his eyes. “I <em>want</em> all those things Dracula, but I need to know <em>why</em> I'm here and I need you to answer that for once.”               </p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to make me <em>beg?”</em> He breaks the gap between you and drops into a crouch, gazing up at you. “Here was <em>I</em> thinking that I was meant to be the one punishing <em>you…”</em> There is something dangerous in his tone. </p><p> </p><p><em>“No…</em>  I'm not going to make you beg.” You run both your hands down from his hair to his cheeks, trying to get him to calm down and stem your <em>own</em> desperation. “But you didn’t answer me before and I <em>can’t</em> go on without knowing. Am I just here to be a bride to you? One of three?”</p><p> </p><p>“Is that not good enough?” he asks with half-lidded eyes, twisting his head so that he can kiss at a couple of the freckles that you have on your arm. Your body is well-adjusted to the temperature in the room and you feel warm to him, but <em>you,</em>  yourself feel that cold, numbing sensation wherever he should touch you and push his head back up again, holding onto either side of it more firmly. You <em>don’t</em> want to get in a haze now and be left in this confusion. He looks at you more seriously. </p><p> </p><p>“It would be if it was more like the <em>human</em> version,” you tell him, “At least the <em>traditional</em> human one, but I <em>mean</em> it-I need to know-am I just like the <em>other</em> brides that you’ve had over the years in your head? The same as Lucy is to you now? Am I just an <em>experiment?”-</em></p><p> </p><p>“It should be a great <em>honour</em> to you to be chosen as one of my brides,” Dracula attempts to explain to you, wriggling away from you enough so that he can sear a line on kisses onto your thigh. “It is the <em>highest</em> compliment that I can give to you.” He looks up at you with a gaze that is initially wolfish and then incredibly tender and also a little <em>hurt</em> as well. <em>Why</em> can’t you understand this one fact about who he is and his culture? “The <em>idea</em> that you might be able to bear my children one day…” </p><p> </p><p> “I know”-as if to prove such a thing you cross your ankles around the back of his neck, drawing him closer to your sex. He steadies himself with one hand against the bed, before he moves it to part your wet folds with his fingers. He laps there obligingly for a moment, his dark eyes looking at you the whole time. <em>“Ngh!”</em> Your hands automatically go to clamp upon his sweaty hair and push him nearer to you. He smiles against you and as if you can <em>sense</em> such a thing you force him closer still. His tongue does one large sweep of you and you arch back, toppling over onto the bed. You make to sit up again, but quickly admit defeat when <em>Dracula, </em> with a wicked smile upon his face, moves to straddle you, having quickly shed his trousers. You can <em>feel</em> him against your stomach and want him further down. He does not comply, only leaning down to pepper your face with kisses instead. “In a traditional relationship though”- you turn your head away from him and try to get back to where you’d been <em>before</em> in the conversation. This is not made any easier by the way that Dracula suddenly licks down the side of your neck with his tongue and you arch up against him, letting out a bit of a cry, hand fumbling to try and locate his member. He stops you, pinning your hand down by the side of you instead, before he takes himself in hand and lines himself up with your entrance. Your hand sweeps up against his hair, trying to make sense of it all amongst the increasing lust and anticipation that you’re feeling. You push your hips a little closer to him encouragingly. Dracula chuckles lowly next to your ear, balancing himself with his other arm. “You essentially trying to impregnate <em>-ah!”</em> The tip of him enters you. “Anyone that you can”-he looks up at you, before with a thunderous roll of his hips he goes more deeply into you. You have to bite down hard on your lip to stop yourself from screaming out at the way that he stretches and fills you so well-<em>too</em> big to fit completely and Dracula pauses for a rare moment of compassion at the sight of your shut eyes and the evident <em>pain</em> that you are going through. Sweat starts to run down your forehead. Having learnt what you like by now he grasps at your tender breasts carefully with his roughened hands and manipulates the nipples with his thumbs in an attempt to get you to feel more pleasure. You let out a bit of a breath, which he <em>swears</em> for a moment that he can feel going down his <em>own</em> body, before he watches as you open your eyes. You give him a bit of a look, as if to say, <em>‘How</em> did we get <em>here</em> again?’ He doesn’t like it and thrusts impatiently a couple of times, not understanding <em>why</em> you seem so suddenly reluctant and wary about all of this. He should be enough for you. <em>This</em> should be enough for you. It is for so many other people. Why not you? The thought both fascinates him and drives him insane. Frustrated he drags your body a little down the bed and pumps into you feverishly for a moment, hoping that <em>this</em> will be the time when you can forget everything that is on your mind and let go completely of what is troubling you. “Wouldn't be acceptable,” you start speaking again. Why the <em>fuck</em> are you speaking again? It annoys Dracula. “It would be looked on as a betrayal,” you somehow keep your mind removed from what is going on physically, though your body pushes nearer to his needily. Dracula tweaks your nipple and you let out a bit of a gasp, but do not desist in your speech, “I <em>know</em> what your purpose is, but the focus would be on what pleasure you might have gotten with the other women and that’s what’s ingrained to us here-what <em>I</em> can’t stop thinking about. How you might prefer Lucy or anyone else, how <em>I'm</em> being stupid and making a mistake that I'm going to regret for the rest of my life”-</p><p> </p><p>“For the second time tonight would you take a look at yourself? I am <em>trying</em> to fuck you. To give <em>you</em> pleasure.”</p><p> </p><p>“But what <em>for?”</em> the ‘for,’ becomes a bit of a mewl when he slams into you particularly roughly and your body snaps upright to meet his. He cradles you in his arms for a moment and you can <em>feel</em> the sweat that is on his back as your hands attempt to grip there. He pecks a line of kisses down one of your shoulders and you <em>wriggle</em> at the ticklish sensation. “I <em>suppose,”</em> you manage to re-gain enough of your breath to murmur into his ear, “That I don’t <em>know</em> whether vampires can love”-he twitches inside of you, letting out a low groan, which makes every hair on the back of your neck rise-“Or whether they simply view sex as a means to an end and for pro-creation purposes like the Catholics”-</p><p> </p><p>“Are you <em>seriously</em> saying that I have something in common with <em>them?”</em> He nibbles at your ear now. You place a hand upon his chest to steady yourself, before you twist your head enough so that you can place your <em>own</em> trail of kisses down his neck. Dracula grumbles approvingly. You hold him in place with your hands upon his cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>“I'm <em>one</em> of them, remember?” You carve a love bite onto his neck. “Ran away from home. From <em>that.</em> Fell in love with the devil or so they’d tell me.” Your head rises, so that you can look him in the eye. Your lips are a little swollen from all their work, but they are quirked upwards in what has to be the first <em>genuine</em> smile that he’s seen from you all night. Dracula thrusts languidly against you a couple of times, finding you to be beautiful in that moment. You steady yourself by placing your hands upon his shoulders, which you kiss as an afterthought, before you look up and smile at him once more. </p><p> </p><p>“What were you going to tell me, darling?” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, <em>honestly</em> more interested in what you have got to say now. </p><p> </p><p>You tilt your mouth up towards his ear. “That humans <em>traditionally</em> tend to think of mating as being with one person for <em>life</em> once they start calling someone their husband or wife.”</p><p> </p><p>“That could take the fun out of things,” Dracula is his naturally flippant self to begin with and you reach your hand threateningly down to where his member is still inside of you, wrapping your fingers around the part of it that cannot fit teasingly, before you start pleasuring yourself instead. Stimulated by what you are doing Dracula lets you get on with it for a moment, <em>growling</em> whenever a finger should flick teasingly against him, before he has enough of it altogether and opens his mouth wide, resting the points of his fangs against your neck. Your pulse shimmers, but you do <em>not</em> stop him from doing this, knowing that he has his rituals and beliefs as well. When he starts to feel you getting slicker, however, he withdraws and removes your hand, <em>ignoring</em> the whine of protest that you give him and reminding you with one quick rise of his eyebrows that <em>he</em> is the one who is meant to be in charge here. Holding you delicately by the wrist he begins to lick off the coating of yourself that you have on your fingers. You shudder and groan against him, leaning into him and submitting to him. He rolls against you a couple of times in reward, steadying you by wrapping his other arm around you. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Drac…”</em> you murmur and it is <em>almost</em> too much for him.              </p><p> </p><p>“Do <em>you</em> believe in this mating for life malarkey then?” he whispers into your ear, threading his fingers with yours. </p><p> </p><p>“If it’s with the <em>right</em> person.” You lean back from him with seductive eyes. </p><p> </p><p>Dracula is <em>gone.</em> He does not know <em>why,</em> but the idea of mating with you for life <em>should</em> you be able to give him what he wants-he is <em>determined</em> to help you do such a thing in that moment, pushing you back onto the bed and hooking your legs over his shoulders, so that he can go deeper into you-and should your body and mind be <em>able</em> to withstand the stresses and strains of it-turns him on immensely in that moment, as does the idea of you <em>actually</em> becoming his bride eternally. Whilst you cry out beneath him he plunges into you at a rapid pace. When you try and falter him for a moment by attempting to say his name and push him back, <em>he,</em> having got into his rhythm, his eyes <em>actually</em> burning with red <em>and</em> gold that time, whilst he is <em>so</em> focused in his mind now about what he wants, gets angry and growls threateningly. “I <em>will</em> mate with you <em>forever,</em> not just in <em>one</em> pitiful lifespan.” You let out a cry of arousal and more satisfied Dracula pins you in place with his mouth, whilst his hips still thrust against you. The hand that is not holding him in place works at your breast.</p><p> </p><p><em>“More,”</em> you murmur and Dracula is not sure what you exactly <em>mean, </em>  so he gives you more of everything-more attention on your breast, more slamming into you and vocally grunting each time he does such a thing and he holds you more <em>firmly</em>completely with all his love for you. He gets a little <em>too</em> caught up in this and a little sloppier, however, when the pair of you get close to reaching your peaks and when your hips rise especially hard to meet his one time he finds himself <em>suddenly</em> on the edge of his orgasm and his mouth slips, his fangs cutting a line into your neck. You whimper, but are so far gone yourself that the sensation is almost a pleasurable one to you. Dracula’s eyes fix on the tantalizing sight of blood that is now on your skin. The gold in his eyes fades. He stills, hardening all the more inside of you and very <em>nearly</em> about to explode. He can <em>feel</em> the vampiric side of him growing all the stronger and is about to call out your name-to tell you, <em>warn</em> you of the problem that you now face-for he doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t have to worry about that, however, for-         </p><p> </p><p><em>“Drac-u-la,”</em> you whisper, your eyes now open in a sultry fashion and focused on him completely. Dracula bites down hard upon his lip, as he nearly loses control of himself-one more movement is all it would take. There has been <em>so</em> much tension between the pair of you tonight-you walking about naked, him being jealous and cross and feeling the need to prove himself to you-that he does not <em>know</em> if he will be able to hold himself back should he <em>truly</em> let himself go. “Do it. It’s what I want. Make me <em>yours</em> forever,” you urge, finding the blood that is on your neck and swiping at it with a finger, before you offer it to him. Shaking a little because he is <em>so</em> close to his peak by that point he draws your finger to him, barely moving as he does so, and forces it deep in his mouth, sucking it clean. A bit of blood stains his lips and you lean forwards-the pressure of which makes him close his eyes and his brow furrow-before you dab at his mouth with your tongue. He begins to come and pushes you down, thrusting frantically through his climax, his hips snapping into yours roughly, both aroused at the action that you’d just made and the idea that <em>maybe,</em> even with all your doubt, <em>this</em> is what you have wanted all along-to be able to take your place beside him. To <em>know</em> that although there will be others in his life <em>you</em> will be there for eternity and he wants the same in that moment. He shoots more of his seed into you. “Yes-Yes,” you mutter encouragingly, and at the same time as he releases a growl and begins to lower his head you pull him to you and hold him in place against your neck. You come at the moment that you feel the skin break more fully and as he starts to drink from you and as you <em>shudder</em> through it all Dracula’s hips meet yours instinctively, working towards another orgasm <em>himself,</em> from you milking him, whilst his mouth plunders all the blood that he can from your neck. He does the thing with such <em>haste</em> that your memories are like flicking through a picture book to him at rapid detail and it is hard for him to make out any true detail in them. He cannot <em>slow</em> himself down enough to do such a thing either, but with your blood <em>inside</em> of him now then he will be able to peruse such things later, at a more <em>peaceful</em> time and looks forward to doing so. </p><p> </p><p>It takes a while before you go completely still, the adrenalin that is coursing through you and some of the fight that you had earlier still left inside of you, but at some point, and when he is <em>still</em> rubbing inside of you, but you have <em>long</em> since both reached your second climaxes, he feels your hand limply fall from where it has been caressing encouragingly at his hair, shoulders and back and onto the bed. He sups a bit more blood from you, before his head tentatively lifts. He realizes that he can no longer hear your pulse and licks his lips consideringly for a moment. When he fixes his eyes on you he sees that your eyes are soaked still in bliss and with the exhilaration of it all, but your face has turned grey. He has drained all of the blood successfully from your body, though not <em>all</em>of it has been consumed by him-some of it has dribbled onto the sheets and there are specks of it on the pillow, which is still observing you both from its position by the headboard. Your h/c hair frames your face. You are <em>beautiful.</em> Even at <em>that</em> point though Dracula thinks that <em>maybe</em> he should have talked to you a bit more about the process of becoming a vampire and that it could have been done in a better way, but he does <em>not</em> regret seeing you like this and <em>knowing,</em> that if this works, then you will be with him forever-your body will hopefully soon be strong enough to provide him with the children that he craves too. </p><p> </p><p>He does not want to lose himself in dreams of the future or wait any longer to find out if this is going to work, however. To come to expect <em>disappointment</em> like he has been forced to face up to with so many of his <em>previous</em> brides. Yet usually at this point in the process that is <em>exactly</em> what he would do-wait for the dormant being to wake re-born as a vampire. Sometimes that takes such a <em>long</em> time and he would not be <em>overly</em> fussed usually, considering that he has eternity, and be <em>willing</em> to allow the process to unfold naturally, but <em>not</em> learning from his previous mistakes that night and feeling <em>particularly</em> impatient, he slices himself just beneath his nipple with his fingernail and leans over you, pressing his bloody wound as close to your mouth as he can <em>without</em> smothering you and hoping that the scent of it-the new extreme of your senses will begin to kick in as soon as some of your consciousness is returned-will be enough to encourage you to wake. He is <em>still</em> left waiting for what feels like an eternity in itself though, <em>doubting</em> more and more with each passing second that this is going to work and almost <em>resigning</em> himself to the fact that he is going to be left with yet <em>another</em> failed experiment and trying to ignore the ache that he feels because you are <em>so</em> much more than just a means to his future-he realizes now at the idea of this new hope being taken away from him that you <em>are</em> his future-but suddenly he feels hands that are supposed to be dead clamping around his waist-thankfully you are <em>not</em> yet at your full strength or that <em>might</em> have hurt-and he lets out a sigh of relief as you begin to frantically suckle at him. He allows you to do so for a full minute and <em>then, </em> in a cruel act, he pulls away from you. You look at him confusedly for a moment and the sight of the blood that trickles down from your lip makes him go hard once more. He will have to satisfy <em>himself</em> for a few days though-you won’t be well enough to take him again until you have grown a little stronger-though he is <em>sure</em> that you will insist on doing so and smirks. “Have I proven myself to you?” he asks you more seriously when the sound of you considering his blood with your teeth, or what he would <em>still</em> deem, <em>‘baby’</em> teeth-your fangs will come through when your body realizes that you will be on a diet that will be made up of blood alone and will probably start appearing when you get a craving for blood over everything else-gets him out of his thought. You nod dumbly, getting close to being sated, but <em>not</em> enough, your eyes going to his wound. “Patience, my dove,” he chuckles. You are now <em>nearly</em> as bad as one another and he laughs <em>again</em> at the questioning stare that you give him from the affectionate name that he’d just called you. He looks forward to living in sin with you, to teaching you what it <em>means</em> to be a vampire and to <em>always</em> being there for you and having you in his company for eternity. He leans forward and licks the blood from himself off of you, before he presses your head to his wound. You latch on greedily there. You are not in control enough of your powers to read his blood correctly yet and to see <em>more</em> than a few glimmers of the people that he has killed over the years, but he <em>knows</em> that you could still come across a strand of something accidentally, as <em>well</em> as his feelings and would rather be in control of the thing. “If you want to know why I was so keen for you to come and stay here”-you release yourself from him with a ‘pop’ and he sees that your teeth are red, as you wait with bated breath, still breathing out of habit at that point-“I knew that I needed you, but I wasn’t quite sure <em>why,</em> so I wanted you to stick around.” He looks off to the side of you. You touch at his hair a little clumsily, but <em>gentle</em> enough in the hope of getting him to look back at you. It already feels softer to the touch and wanting <em>more</em> of it against your skin you grab at it more tightly. His eyes look towards where you are holding on, before he meets your eyes amusedly with his own and prises your hand from his hair-you get a few strands for all your trouble of clinging on and look at them curiously. “You have got a <em>lot</em> to learn,” he informs you.   </p><p> </p><p>“It’s good that I’ve got the <em>best</em> teacher then, isn’t it?” you tease. Your lips join and you feel a <em>thrill</em> run through you and turned on again at the fact that the vampiric side of him does not <em>now</em> make you feel numb and hazy to the point where you lose consciousness when you kiss. You actually get to <em>feel</em> like what it is to be able to concentrate on the sensation of his thick, probing lips against yours and you grip onto his face <em>firmly</em> as you take full advantage of the fact. Dracula too seems happy, cradling you and dipping you until you pull away from him with a laugh, before you stroke at his hair again more seriously. “Did you work out the <em>reason</em> for wanting me to stick around?” you whisper throatily, eyes locking onto his. </p><p> </p><p>“Tonight I did”- you look at him hopefully and he feels put off by the thing and <em>suddenly</em> changes his mind about telling you. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you going to say <em>why? “Now,</em> would maybe be a good time since I’ve become one of your brides.” He can sense that your old uncertainty has carried on into your re-birth and feels <em>annoyed</em> by the thing. </p><p> </p><p>“Not right now. You need your rest,” he tells you.  </p><p> </p><p>You pull the pillow down and lay your head back on it obediently, your hand fidgeting with his upon his lap and Dracula bites at his lip again. You study him. <em>“Resting,”</em> you try, but this just makes Dracula frown. In an attempt to cheer him up you say, “I guess I will have to phone the foundation and tell them that I’ll have to keep an eye on <em>myself</em> from now on,” but to your disappointment it just brings Dracula’s jealousy out.  </p><p> </p><p>“You won’t have any more <em>need</em> for them and they won’t touch you. I’ll keep you safe.” As if to reassure himself he pulls your head forward and holds your head to his wound.</p><p> </p><p>Little does he know that it <em>won’t</em> be that simple…</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I will be doing one more chapter to finish off this scenario. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Life as a Vampire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay! </p><p>Thanks for your support! I hope that you enjoy this chapter also. I would love to know what you think. :) </p><p>Just a warning that there are some quite disturbing scenes, especially at the beginning of this chapter where Dracula and Reader feed on a baby. It is definitely the most horrific thing I have ever written [though there is a lot of dark humour from our favourite vampire] but please take care and skip ahead if you feel uncomfortable.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dracula wakes before dawn-having fallen asleep <em>himself</em> due to the exhaustion from the events in the night-to the feel of you gently attempting to ply the blood from the wound that he’d made on his chest with your teeth. He feels <em>alarmed</em> at first, instinct making him feel like he does <em>not</em> want to be killed just because you make a mistake and take too much from him [vampires can unfortunately die from massive blood loss, as <em>well</em> as being staked] and then relief when his eyes flick open to see that <em>although</em> you have managed to take a <em>small</em> amount from him your teeth are mostly pressing thirstily up against an already dried up wound. You gasp a little desperately against him and he prises your mouth away from him. Your eyes meet his for a moment, before they go back down to his wound again. </p><p> </p><p><em>“F/N,”</em> he keeps you away from his chest by holding you more upright from where you are straddling-though perhaps nearly <em>‘lying’</em> on would be a more accurate thing to say-his body when you make an attempt to struggle against him. You look at him furiously. He chuckles at that point, trying to pretend that he is not feeling slightly horrified about how out of <em>hand</em> the previous night had gotten. “Realizing how hard it is to resist now?” You push against him with a growl. “You need food.” He moves you both into a standing position and reaches for his trousers. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ve <em>got</em> food.” When he looks at you it occurs to him that your eyes have gone to his wound once more.   </p><p> </p><p>“Not mine.” He abandons his trousers and does his shirt up hastily. </p><p> </p><p>“But <em>Drac-u-la,”</em> you speak in a pleading, babyish tone. He rolls his eyes and slaps away your fingers, which hover towards him in the air when you stumble closer to him-feeling a little off-balance. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ll be in trouble if you keep doing things like that,” he <em>warns, </em> checking the appearance of his shirt with his eyes.    </p><p> </p><p>“How are you going to punish me now that I'm not even <em>human?”</em> you can’t help but ask, your desire and blood lust getting in the way of the horror of that thought. </p><p> </p><p>With a growl he pushes you back down onto the bed and leans over you, pinning back your arms. He gives you an Eskimo kiss and <em>then,</em>  with a bit of a <em>rumbling</em> laugh, pecks at your lips. You attempt to deepen things immediately, grasping onto his hair and pushing against him with your body, nudging your tongue against his lips as you demand entry. “By denying you like <em>this.”</em> He pulls away from you. You pout and he tries to strengthen his case by saying, “You need to rest more. You’ll get ill if you try and do things too soon,” but you lunge towards his wound. You miss because you are like a newborn animal that has not got accustomed to the way that its limbs work yet. Your mouth lands on Dracula’s naked lap instead and you soon get to work on his member. <em>“F/N,”</em> he warns, “You cannot have the good stuff <em>all</em> the time.”  </p><p> </p><p>“Do you mean your blood?” you ask him with a fake innocence as you sit up again. </p><p> </p><p>His lips twitch upwards in spite of himself. <em>“Everything,”</em> he purrs, before he pats at your knee and climbs out of bed again. “You stay here. I will have to get you something more substantial to eat.”</p><p> </p><p>“But it will be <em>light</em> soon,” you protest.   </p><p> </p><p>“I'm not leaving <em>this</em> to Renfield.” The lawyer cannot sort out <em>his</em> needs adequately half the time and he does <em>not</em> want another man touching what <em>you</em> will be eating. He will source your needs out <em>himself.</em> “I will also have to get some soil from nearby and put it in your half of the bed. You won’t feel properly replenished otherwise and although it won’t work as fully as it would if it were at the <em>entire</em> bottom of the bed it will give you some extra strength, which you’ll need at this stage.” As if to prove such a thing you lean back on to the bed with a yawn, showing off your <em>‘baby’</em> teeth to him. He looks at you sympathetically, an echo of a memory of when <em>he</em> had felt similarly running through his mind. “You stay here. I won’t be long.” He pecks at your forehead and you touch instinctively at his hair, before you drift off into a slumber once more. He is worried about leaving you on your own-fledglings <em>often</em> have nightmares of their transformation process going wrong-but he does not have any choice. The only person that he will trust this with is himself, so he dresses hurriedly, glances you over one final time and leaves the apartment. </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>Having been nightmare-free you wake to the sound of a baby crying and sit up instinctively. Daylight makes you realize how much of a <em>mess</em> that Dracula and you had made in the night-the bed’s sheets are in a sloppy tangle and blood and the stains from your sexual encounter are still visible upon it. Your family would probably think that Satan <em>himself</em> had visited if they walked in at that point. You don’t feel <em>that,</em> though you do feel a bit embarrassed and look away eagerly the first chance you get as you hear footsteps approaching. Dracula enters the room-his hair a little mused and his face a little pinched, though his eyes brighten when he sees that you are up and though pale look none the worse for wear from his absence. He is <em>not</em> alone, however. He holds a baby in a red babygro and bounces it a little on his hip. “Breakfast in bed,” he smiles at you, before he says to the baby, “And <em>here’s</em> Mummy. Look.” Dracula points a long finger at you and smiles wickedly in your direction as he adds, “My, <em>my,</em> isn’t she looking beautiful today? Aren't we glad that she hasn’t bothered to dress yet?” You feel a sense of dread <em>despite</em> the compliment that he’d just given you. The baby, on the other hand, seems to calm down a little, gurgling and further doing so at the soothing sounds that Dracula makes in his throat, before he hands the baby to you. You feel a swell of your not yet thrown out human compassion well up inside of you, you believe that you will probably have to get rid of it at some point due to your new condition, and don’t want to hold the baby <em>too</em> close-it is apparently the food that Dracula has gotten for you after all and you feel <em>repelled</em> by the scene. Dracula sits down on the edge of the bed, looking at the pair of you. </p><p> </p><p>“A <em>baby?”</em> you ask.          </p><p> </p><p>“It will be better for your immune system to start off with something that’s fresh and small,” Dracula says matter-of-factly, tickling the baby with a pointed fingernail. It laughs and wriggles its limbs happily. You can’t <em>believe</em> how <em>normal</em> Dracula’s being, but then suppose that you should have <em>expected</em> such a thing. </p><p> </p><p>“And, <em>where</em> did you get it from?” You can feel the warmth of the baby as it attempts to burrow against your chest and understand, as you had with your partner’s wound that morning, some of the <em>agony</em> that Dracula must go through-if all humans are <em>this</em> warm then it is no <em>wonder</em> that he can’t resist taking a bite, though Dracula himself hadn't been warm of course. You feel your newer instincts begin to take over. They churn over the soft heartbeat of the baby, which only serves as an encouragement to you and you try and not be <em>clouded</em> in your new state and look at the baby all that much. </p><p> </p><p>“A window was ajar in the next neighbourhood, as if she was waiting for me,” Dracula <em>hopes</em> that you are pleased with the effort that he has gone to for you, getting there and back before sunrise, for he had <em>deliberately</em> been seeking out such a baby. He <em>also</em> hopes that you can see the hidden meaning behind it-by presenting you with a baby that looks <em>so</em> much like the pair of you combined, she has your hair and his eyes, he is outlining a plan for your future and hoping that you will be <em>just</em> as keen for it. </p><p> </p><p>“And er”- the baby’s hand drifts towards your face, before it falls down to clasp at your naked breast and <em>again</em> you feel a shock at how warm she is, gasping a little. </p><p> </p><p>“I think she <em>likes</em> you,” Dracula sounds delighted at the prospect, “I wonder if you would be able to produce any milk for her?”-</p><p> </p><p>“Dracula <em>no.</em> I am <em>not</em> being dragged into one of your experiments.” </p><p> </p><p>“But you already <em>are</em> my sweet.” He rises and gently moves the baby to your breast, guiding her mouth there with his hand. The baby gurgles and attempts to suckle, <em>clearly</em> knowing what it is doing, and you feel too <em>frozen</em> to push it off you, but your entire body is cringing and you <em>hate</em> Dracula in that moment. You feel <em>used</em> by the way that he is behaving. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Why</em> did you make me a vampire? Was it for moments like this?” you ask him.  </p><p> </p><p>“Yes of course it was. I make <em>all</em> my brides for the same reason, but I wanted to share these moments with you and just a few <em>hours</em> ago,” he reminds you, “It was as if you wanted to share them with <em>me</em> as well.” He caresses at your neck lightly. The wound that he’d made last night is still there and he heals it with a pinch and roll of the skin, hoping <em>that</em> might make things better for you slightly.  </p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t want to be sitting here in the morning like this.”</p><p> </p><p> He withdraws the baby and allows her to sink back into your arms with a sigh. “You’re probably unable to produce anything now. Maybe you’ve already dried up?” He hopes that your <em>personality</em> hasn’t.  </p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t like I was producing <em>before,”</em> you argue the point with him, “You would probably have to”- you cut yourself off when you remember just <em>who</em> you are talking to.     </p><p> </p><p>Dracula’s eyes glitter dangerously. “Go <em>on,”</em> he murmurs, and if he were a dog then he would have been growling in that moment. </p><p> </p><p>“Turn a pregnant woman for the best chance at that,” you murmur, hating <em>yourself</em> in that moment and already feeling a little jealous at the thought of him doing such a thing and <em>preferring</em> that bride to you, as if such an emotion has been <em>spiked</em> because of your transformation.  </p><p> </p><p>Dracula lets you stew and licks at his lips consideringly for a moment. “Already tried it, but she lost the baby.” You suppose that he <em>would</em> have attempted the thing over his many years and feel <em>relieved</em> for the fact that it had not been a new idea. “It was a splendid suggestion though my sweet.” He tucks back some of your hair. “You really <em>are</em> adapting quite nicely, aren't you? Though you haven’t looked much at the food I've brought you I see.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Dracula.”</em> You put the baby on the bed now, feeling a bit ill, but immediately pick her up again when she drifts too close to one of the stains, <em>this</em> time holding her up to your eye-level. Dracula makes an approving noise in his throat as you look at her. You feel a strange <em>tug</em> inside, thinking that she <em>could</em> be Dracula and your baby. You hold her in your arms again, feeling conflicted. She <em>smells</em> delicious.   </p><p> </p><p>“You <em>want</em> her, don’t you?” Dracula asks. “I knew you would. She’s gorgeous like you are.” Slowly, and without looking at <em>either</em> of them you nod your head, a surge of guilt running through you, but you cannot deny the <em>need</em> that fills you from being this close to the baby. It feels like such a need is strapping you on to the bed and making you feel helpless. “Then let me show you how to <em>have</em> her, my sweet.”</p><p> </p><p><em>“Drac”-</em> you hold the baby away from you and almost <em>sob</em> in protest. “I don’t want to be like this…I <em>never</em> wanted to become this way…I don’t know <em>what</em> possessed”- </p><p> </p><p><em>“Shh.</em> This is just part of the process. Maybe you will enjoy it one day?” He touches at your hair soothingly. You <em>doubt</em> that you will, but you manage to hiccup yourself into a calmer state, <em>knowing</em>-from the dangerous gaze that Dracula uses on the baby, which has grown <em>disgruntled</em> because of you-that it will probably be worse for the baby and you if you <em>don’t.</em>  “Now give her to me.” He holds his hands out. He could just <em>take</em> her from you, but he is aware of the fact that things will be a <em>lot</em> easier with your consent. You pull her close to you once more and look at him warily, whilst she settles down. “You must <em>really</em> not get so attached to your food.” You look at him heatedly. “I won’t do anything to her,” he promises, before he adds a bit mischievously, “Not <em>yet</em> anyway.” Slowly, but knowing that it is <em>not</em> as if you are in a state to protest after all and wanting to get this over with, you hand the baby over, something still rebelling on your insides and your outer body shaking. He shifts the baby onto one shoulder and supports her with one hand. With the other he takes yours and guides you up off the bed. He gestures that you should move around to the far side and you do such a thing, your body filling up with dread. Dracula pulls the pillow vertically down and places the baby upon it. Thankfully she does not fall off. With the spots of blood that are still there on the pillow from the night and the horrible red of the babygro it almost looks like she has just been born. Dracula and you could be her doting parents, but really you are <em>far</em> from being such a thing. She looks between the pair of you and then grasps in the middle with her hand, as if she had not been sure which one of you to go for. When she doesn’t hit upon anything she begins to cry. You feel like doing the same. <em>“Shh,”</em> Dracula soothes, leaning over her, “There’s no need for either <em>one</em> of you to be upset.” His gaze goes to where you have begun to half-cry, whilst you still shake upon the bed, your normal self-no, who you’d been <em>before</em> the night had happened fighting against the adrenalin of the current moment. He draws your hand to him and pecks at your knuckles. “We’re just sitting here”-he swipes soothingly at your hand with his thumb-“Having a nice time,” he pulls a silly face at the baby and she gurgles, whilst you laugh. “There. <em>See?</em> Everything is all right in the world,” he keeps his voice soft now and gestures that you should come a bit closer. You do so, still a bit reluctantly, but put under a spell by Dracula’s voice and comforted by the fact that your hand is still linked with his as the pair of you look down upon the baby. “And now Mummy’s just going to come and say goodnight.” He tickles at the baby’s middle. She gurgles happily and flays her limbs about. The baby’s scent-talcum powder and something <em>distinctly</em> baby-enters your nose all the more, but you try to ignore it and the internal <em>excitement</em> that part of you feels and focus on looking at Dracula instead. “Go on Mummy, won’t you say goodnight to the little one? Don’t keep her waiting, will you?” He tilts his head at you. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Already-?”</em> you choke, trying to buy some more time. </p><p> </p><p><em>“What</em> did I tell you about getting attached?” he asks, his voice darkening. “It’s also <em>rude</em> to play with your food in front of <em>other</em> vampires”-you know that he means <em>him</em>now-“And show <em>how</em> much enjoyment you are getting out of it.” </p><p> </p><p>“But haven’t you”-</p><p> </p><p><em>“Eat,”</em> Dracula demands, before you can tell him that he’s been doing the exact same thing more than anyone, his voice growing louder and the baby lets out a shrill cry. <em>“Shh,”</em> Dracula soothes, “Mummy’s undone all my hard work, hasn’t she? Silly Mummy.” He tickles at the baby with a pointed fingernail and she settles down instead, <em>chortling,</em> which you find ironic considering the circumstances and that makes you feel all the <em>more</em> protective of her.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“Drac”-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Go on F/N. I'm getting bored,” Dracula complains, “It’s not very interesting with you just sitting there like that.”     </p><p> </p><p>Maybe if I”- your eyes go down to where you <em>know</em> that his wound is. If you could take a bit more blood from him then that would <em>probably</em> make you a bit number and braver at least.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“No,</em> you’ll have to do it <em>without</em> any encouragement eventually so you might as well start today,” he is firm with you, but he seals the deal when he offers you a small smile and tells you, “Go on. I know you can do it, my dove. You need to feed or you’ll be <em>ill.</em> Would you <em>really</em> do that to me after all the trouble that I have gone to, to ensure that we will be together?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s <em>love?”</em> you ask him, doubting the fact. <em>“That’s</em> the reason that you figured out that you wanted me here? The reason that you have turned me? The reason that you are doing this is all <em>about”-</em> He nods and you feel a sudden warmth in spite of your new form. </p><p> </p><p>“Of course it is.” </p><p> </p><p>“All right.” You lean a bit closer to the baby and Dracula threads your fingers with his for extra support.</p><p> </p><p>“Talk to her,” he encourages, more mollified now that you are halfway there. </p><p> </p><p>“I'm not sure what to say,” you protest, finding it easier just to close your eyes and to allow the scent of the baby to fill you instead, to pretend that <em>she</em> is just a delicious and already cooked meal rather than the living and breathing thing that she is. Your senses get <em>so</em> attuned that you start to see the faint outline of her even <em>with</em> your eyes shut and you become aware that you have gotten into more of a stalking position on all fours on the bed and that Dracula has let go of your hand. You hear the undoing of a zip and there is no <em>room</em> for disgust in the heightened state that you are in, only arousal because of <em>his</em> arousal. You imagine him touching himself and hope that he will penetrate you. Again you want him to do <em>anything</em> that will make you feel hazier and this entire experience less real. You do not know that the <em>real</em> reason that he is touching himself is to try and become satisfied in one way so that he <em>won’t</em> go after the food himself. The baby touches at your hair and in an <em>instinctive</em> reaction because of the fact that she is trying to distract you from something <em>else</em> that you own [although Dracula would probably <em>disagree</em> with you there] you strike at her, your teeth fumbling in their attempt to puncture the skin that is on her neck, being as normal as they are still and you get all the more <em>agitated</em> by the way that this never seems to be over. The baby begins to cry noisily. A moment later there comes a knock on the door. </p><p> </p><p><em>“Fuck,”</em> Dracula swears, getting his trousers tidy again, before he looks at you. “Just stay here and try and calm her down.” He can feel your mounting panic <em>despite</em> the fact that you don’t have a pulse any more and runs what he hopes is a reassuring hand through your hair, before he makes his way to the door. </p><p> </p><p>The baby seems to cry <em>all</em> the more when he is gone and you hover over her desperately. “Please settle down,” you murmur, trying to block her sound out with your body even as your ears listen to the conversation that is going on by the main door of the apartment. It seems to be one of your neighbours who has called, made concerned by the noise of the baby. </p><p> </p><p>“Nothing to be worried about,” Dracula reassures the man as charmingly as ever and you can imagine him raking a hand back through his hair, “My wife and I”-</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t <em>realise</em> she was married!” the man exclaims. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh yes,” Dracula sounds a little smug by the fact and you growl softly, hoping that he will correct his tone once he hears the thing. “It’s a recent occurrence”- <em> ‘very</em> recent,’ you think ironically, as Dracula carries on in the same manner-“But we’re just doing a spot of babysitting for a friend, practice for our <em> own</em> some day,” he sounds suddenly wistful and whilst the man chuckles in response and wishes him a pointed good luck with that in the way that men do in response to hearing such things you can almost <em>believe</em> that Dracula <em>had</em> turned you and brought the baby to you out of love in that moment. </p><p> </p><p>‘You <em>really</em> think that you are any different? He told you <em>himself</em> that he turns people for the same reason and he has brought food to <em>many</em> over the years,’ your body jolts up at the strange voice and you look around. There is an actual <em>nun</em> with her back to you and facing the black curtains, which are still tightly shut over the windowpane. You had not heard her enter and have <em>no</em> idea of how she had gotten there and scramble backwards with a gasp, landing on some of the stains that are on the bed and the baby cries all the <em>more</em> at all your movement. You hear Dracula telling your neighbour that he must be off-the baby is <em>obviously</em> being very difficult for you-and are glad that the nun is giving you some privacy, but are not sure what you should cover up first-yourself, the baby, all the mess that is upon the bed? Dracula enters the room. It seems to you that both the nun and you swivel to look at him at the exact same time and you hiss at the glistening of the cross, but his eyes only fix on <em>you,</em> however.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought I told you to get her to be quiet?” he nods with frustrated eyes at the baby, thinking that you had been startled by <em>him</em> alone, and you wonder <em>why</em> a highly-advanced predator such as himself has not noticed, or even been <em>affected</em> by the presence of the nun like you had been, but when you look back towards the curtains it is to find that the nun is not there any more. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I”-</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Dracula tuts and moves bodily to pick up the baby.</p><p> </p><p><em>‘Do</em> something to stop him!’ the nun’s voice cries loudly now and you realize that she seems to be in your head though <em>how</em> she has gotten there from being beside the curtains you <em>don’t</em> know. </p><p> </p><p>You have no time to prevent anything from happening though. One minute Dracula is holding the baby close to his chest and murmuring quietly, ‘This will sort you out,’ and then, in the next, his fingernail is slicing across the baby’s neck and specks of blood are flying out. The baby lets out one last <em>howl, </em> before it grows terribly still.  </p><p> </p><p>Dracula <em>throws</em> the baby down on to the bed. You can’t help but look at it, rocking forward on your knees and covering your mouth with both of your hands. Its <em>eyes,</em> which had reminded you so much of Dracula’s are glassy and it looks almost like a doll. Trying to resist the temptation to <em>eat</em> any part of it you hurl yourself down so that you are lying on your side and writhe there like a fish that is frantically trying to get the bait from a hook, but not fall prey yourself. Dracula chuckles at you, but there is something oddly <em>kind</em> about the thing. </p><p> </p><p>“You are nearly there,” he encourages, sitting down on the edge of the bed behind you and patting at your rear, before he leans over and moves the baby closer to your mouth. You let out a <em>moan</em> of protest, but as he pushes it towards you again and you get your first taste of blood you are suddenly moving on to all fours and sucking greedily at it, as you have never even eaten before. You aren't advanced enough in your vampire life to be able to <em>read</em> the blood like Dracula can and see the memories of the baby, so you just concentrate on the taste and feel of it-metallic and already cooling. You are sloppy in your quest for warmth and <em>anything</em> that might leave you feeling contented in this new life.<br/>
Dracula moves around the bed as you slurp and you let out a warning growl.<br/>
Undeterred the older vampire laughs. “She is yours, <em>all</em> yours, I am glad that you are enjoying her so much.” </p><p> </p><p>‘You mustn't let him debase you like this,’ that voice is back in your head and you try and growl it off too. <em>Dracula,</em> thinking that you are still telling him to back off stops some distance away and just watches you. </p><p> </p><p>“There is <em>nothing</em> debasing about this,” you mutter when you can tell that the owner of the voice is still very much present in your mind and you begin to wonder if it is the voice of your <em>family</em> speaking through your conscience, though you do not know <em>why</em> the accent sounds European, as it reminds you of your old faith and what was deemed acceptable and not so. Something suddenly <em>sinks</em> inside of you as you do not even have to <em>question</em> into which category this would fit.  </p><p> </p><p>“Of <em>course</em> there isn’t,” Dracula seems to perk up at your words, “It’s only food. They are not providing us with it and that is why we have to <em>take,”</em> he seems to have justified this to himself over his many years.  </p><p> </p><p>‘Are you unable to see the mess that you have caused? The <em>damage</em> that you have done?’ that voice pipes up insistently. ‘Lift your head and <em>look</em> at what you have done.’ You do so and take in the blood, the stains and the baby and the frantic desire that you’d felt to drain all the blood from its body cools. Finally the voice says, ‘Look at him,’ and you turn your eyes now to where Dracula’s hand has slid quietly into his trousers and is working steadily at himself, his eyes locked on you. </p><p> </p><p>“Don’t stop,” he mutters, before he takes you in more, and in particular, the trail of blood that is winding down your chin. <em>“Beautiful,”</em> he says hoarsely, “So, so beautiful.”   </p><p> </p><p>‘He has no shame.’ </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care,” you tell the voice firmly for a new desire has filled you. You rake your eyes down his tousled form. His hair is mused, there is a dampness about his lips and his trousers are <em>bulging</em> with his member and the hand that is pumping. “Let me,” you half-get off the bed, but Dracula waves a hand at you and steps back.  </p><p> </p><p>“No please, carry on, <em>please</em> carry on.” There is something desperate and shimmering in his eyes now and the movement of his hand grows all the fiercer. </p><p> </p><p>As if you are in a trance you settle on the bed once more and draw your lips down to the baby’s open wound.</p><p> </p><p>‘So you are going to be drawn into this game and play with your food as well?’ the voice sounds disgusted. </p><p> </p><p>“Who <em>are</em> you?” you growl at the voice and Dracula ceases his movements, sensing that something is not right with you. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>“F/N?”</em>
</p><p> </p><p><em>“I”-</em> you don’t know how you can begin to explain to your vampire boyfriend/<em>husband [?]</em> that you think you are going crazy and that being turned into a vampire has <em>finally</em> pushed you over the edge, so you just say, “I don’t think I”-</p><p> </p><p>“No harm in admitting that you’re full,” Dracula tells you. </p><p> </p><p>Without being able to stop yourself you begin to retch and scramble off the bed. Dracula follows you to the bathroom. As you bend, half-<em>heaving</em> over the toilet with your hands on your knees Dracula’s hand goes upon your back. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think-I-I'm not sure if I can do that again,” you confess to him.</p><p> </p><p>“You <em>will.</em> You <em>have</em> to or you’ll be ill,” the second part of his words is more sincere, the first being <em>clouded</em> with rage.      </p><p> </p><p>You are violently sick in the toilet-coughing up your last meal as a human being and you feel <em>oddly</em> sad for it, but mostly blood. Dracula’s hand soon returns, stroking you soothingly through the motions. “You <em>really</em> care for me?”</p><p> </p><p>“Of course.” He hands you a piece of toilet paper.</p><p> </p><p>“Only turning someone into a vampire <em>doesn’t</em> seem like an act of love, especially when you said that you were going to <em>save</em> me…” You look at him dubiously. The voice murmurs in your head about how he had just done it to give you the ultimate punishment for your disobedience and so that he could have ultimate control over you. ‘You will be active at the same time now. The only way to escape him will be <em>death,’</em> it tells you. You put the points about punishment and control to Dracula. </p><p> </p><p>He laughs. “You’re getting paranoid F/N, which is a very unattractive quality in a bride might I say?” You fold your arms as if to tell him that he <em>shouldn't</em> go there. “I already punished you and I had <em>more</em> control over you as a human being than you as a vampire. In any case it’s a bit late to go changing your mind <em>now,</em> sweetheart. Vampires don’t <em>do</em> refunds and whether you like it or not we will <em>both</em> have to start getting used to you as a vampire.” </p><p> </p><p>You glare at him. You flush the toilet paper away, before you brush roughly past him and attempt to return to the bedroom. You stop dead in the entranceway, however, at the reminder of the baby. You feel on the edge of tears again.  </p><p> </p><p>“We killed a baby Drac. We killed a fucking <em>baby.”</em> </p><p> </p><p>“It’ll go smoother next time,” he attempts to reassure you, but you <em>hate</em> him for thinking that your technique is even an issue to you right now. “What did you <em>think</em> I was doing when I went out to feed at night?” he asks you condescendingly when he sees your expression. “Going into a restaurant somewhere? Sitting down with a knife and fork like a <em>proper</em> gentleman? Ordering a drink of blood with a meal that <em>humans</em> would be proud of? I told you-we have to take because they don’t <em>give.”</em></p><p> </p><p>“So it’s the fault of <em>humans</em> for not offering themselves up as appetizers?” You feel horrified about his casual manner. “Was that <em>all</em> I was to you last night? A <em>drink?”</em> </p><p> </p><p>Dracula gives you a sultry look now. <em>“You,</em> my darling, were the sweetest beverage that I have ever tasted.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “But you don’t <em>understand</em> how vampires work”-</p><p> </p><p>“And <em>you</em> think that you understand <em>humans?”</em> you interrupt him. </p><p> </p><p>“Darling, I’ve been around a long time.” He looks you up and down. “I’ve <em>more</em> than got the measure of you.” You hate his all-knowing gaze and look away from him. His words are a bit of a bluff-though you don’t know how part of the appeal of being around humans <em>is</em> to get to know and try to understand them.   </p><p> </p><p> “What are you going to do with it?” Finally you look back at him, you can’t <em>bear</em> to think of the baby as a <em>‘her’</em> any more. </p><p> </p><p>“You need to finish drinking from her,” Dracula evidently doesn’t have the <em>same</em> concerns after so many years of being alive. </p><p> </p><p>“I-I <em>can’t</em> Drac”- you protest with a fierce shake of your head. “Weren't you just listening to what I was trying to tell you?” </p><p> </p><p>“Renfield will take care of what’s left when you’re done, but you <em>need</em> to listen to <em>me</em> now.” He takes your hand with his.</p><p> </p><p>“Why? Why am I so important to you? Why do you <em>care</em> so much if I get ill?” You try to get away from him, but his grip only tightens upon you.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Come.”</em> He ignores your questioning of him, thinking that it should be <em>obvious</em> to you and that he has answered such things already and leads you back to the bed. You try and resist, but he only pulls you <em>more</em> firmly along, before he gestures that you should kneel upon the bed. You do so. The scent of the baby is stronger there. Your eyes can’t help but look at it. Dracula climbs onto the bed quickly behind you and pushes your head down. You fight against him. “We are not <em>monsters</em> F/N, you know why I made you this way. You <em>must.”</em></p><p> </p><p>“So we could spend eternity together?” you squeak and you are <em>sure</em> that you hear that foreign voice in your head scoffing. She probably thinks that you are being hopelessly naïve and you wonder if you are?</p><p> </p><p>“Start accepting this life.” Dracula presses you down more, and half-crying and half-<em>wanting</em> more as soon as the blood touches your lips you suckle in a feverish state at the baby’s neck. Dracula strokes at your hair to get you through the thing, and <em>then,</em> once you are done, you turn and bury your face into his chest. “There. The next one will be easier,” he swears, sounding <em>relieved</em> himself that it is over for the time being and you nod dumbly, turning your head sideways now and where his heart would have once beaten. “It’s just feeding like I told you before.” He lifts you up until you are <em>both</em> in a standing position and stares into your eyes. “Go and clean yourself up,” he looks rather pityingly at you, “Vampires don’t <em>need</em> to wash other than for pride’s sake, but you might feel better from it until you get used to things.”<br/>
You nod and begin to walk away, but before you leave the room completely you look back at him. He’s tracing a line down the side of the baby’s cheek and looks almost <em>fatherly.</em> “Go and have that shower. When you get back everything will be nice again.” He senses your gaze on him.<br/>
He’s not <em>wrong</em> either and you take more comfort from the fresh silk sheets that he’s put on the bed than you ever have done, letting <em>nothing</em> come between them and your drying skin, before you think about everything that has happened and wonder about the voice again. </p><p> </p><p>“Who <em>are</em> you?” you ask into the day.</p><p> </p><p>Right before you drift off into sleep you are <em>certain</em> that you hear a voice say, ‘I am Sister Agatha Van Helsing of the St Mary’s Convent, Budapest and I am here to be your light’- </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t <em>need</em> saving,” you mumble and you miss the way that Dracula sighs in the next room. </p><p> </p><p>‘Yes you do,’ Agatha’s voice speaks clearly in your mind once more, before she adds, ‘You think that just because he has given you more power <em>now, </em> and he only did such a thing because he is greedy and cannot help himself, that you are any less trapped?’</p><p> </p><p>“I love him and he loves me.” Dracula feels hopeful for a moment. </p><p> </p><p>‘You are besotted with him and that is <em>not</em> the same thing. You are more trapped now than ever before because you are tied to him, he is your <em>maker,</em> but I will be your light, and I will <em>save</em> you from him.’ You don’t know that she had rifled through so much of your past history, before she had even spoken and is already developing a more thorough plan for how she might be able to help you. All you know is that one moment you can hear her and the next you are asleep.      </p><p> </p><p>* </p><p> </p><p>When you wake you remember Agatha’s words <em>and,</em> less tired and more <em>able</em> to think about the matter more clearly, it hits you that you’d read the name ‘Agatha Van Helsing,’ at the foundation before and that she is in fact an ancestor of <em>Zoe’s,</em> having died on the same ship that had first brought Dracula to England.  You worry about <em>why</em> she is there and you are able to hear her-had something in the transformation process gone wrong? Or is this <em>normal</em> and you are simply able to hear the voice of Agatha Van Helsing because she was once a victim-though hearing from her more and knowing what you <em>do</em> know from Zoe’s notes about her <em>few</em> would call Agatha Van Helsing a victim-of Dracula’s and you are next? You can’t help but worry about the consequences of the latter of course, but you feel more concerned by the thought of what would be <em>behind</em> your ultimate death-Dracula deciding that you are not good enough. You feel anxious too that he might send you away. You’ve half a mind to call Zoe and ask her for an opinion that might be able to stop so much of your worry, or even <em>Jack,</em> but that would <em>also</em> mean admitting to the pair of them that you are a <em>vampire</em> now and that you’d only started to <em>hear</em> Agatha’s voice since you’d become one. You also harbour <em>no</em> intention to be locked up inside the foundation like Dracula had been, <em>or</em> experimented on, but still worry that you are turning your back on something that would be more helpful than harmful. Yet when you are arguing between the cases one night in your head [Agatha seems <em>remarkably</em> silent upon the matter] Dracula picks up on the way that you are tossing your mobile phone between your hands <em>and,</em>  thinking unbeknownst to you that you are so unhappy in your new life that you are contemplating leaving him, snatches it easily in mid-air, before he sends a text, which he reads out loud to you, saying that you are resigning from the foundation and promptly proceeds to crush your phone beneath his foot. You are left in <em>no</em> doubt about who is still in charge of you.</p><p> </p><p>“You need to start accepting the fact that things won’t be like they were before,” is all he says to you, before he leaves the room and looking at the state of your phone you decide to <em>heed</em> him for the moment. </p><p> </p><p>If you were <em>hoping</em> that Agatha would pipe down over time and make this entire process <em>easier</em> for you, however, then she <em>doesn’t,</em> but she seems to change her tactics from simply <em>chiding</em> you about anything that has to do with your new vampire life [though there seems to be certain limits to this and she <em>still</em> pipes up whenever you should have a loving thought about Dracula or feel attracted to him and she practically <em>shouts</em> at you whenever you should kiss and makes you feel quite put off doing anything more intimate than that with him so you end up obeying Dracula and <em>resting</em> more than attempting anything sexual-an act, which seems to leave him <em>oddly</em> disappointed considering how stubborn he’d appeared to be about the thing] and she seems to accept that part of you quicker than <em>you</em> do in fact. Instead she goes <em>deeper,</em> picking at the doubts that are already there inside you-particularly the one that asks you what Dracula will <em>do</em> to you, he claims to love you after all, if you cannot provide him with the children that he craves so much and <em>be</em> the vampire that he wants you to be-and you worry and <em>wonder</em> how <em>sincere</em> she is about saving you and at what cost-your mind is unravelling and on your worst days you feel afraid to even <em>think,</em> scared at how she will peck at such thoughts like a dark raven until your entire being is aching for a rest. You are <em>also</em> anxious about bits of her slipping out with you when you are with Dracula, who you feel sure would not approve of the voice whether it is meant to be there or not, though he has not mentioned it as part of the vampire coaching that he is giving you, as it is going against him and worry that you will say something in a Dutch accent and adapt Agatha’s manner of speaking. You <em>swear</em> that he looks at you in a strange way sometimes-all sad and thoughtful-but when you ask him about it he claims that it is nothing and looks away again. You feel like you are letting him down-<em>surely</em> one of the reasons that he’d made you a vampire was that he’d thought you’d be good company and excel with your new powers to boot, but you don’t feel as if you are <em>either</em> of these things at the moment.   </p><p> </p><p>Getting used to the vampiric side of you is rather like battling with teenage hormones as well. You’d been sick several times to begin with because of the different level of your senses [the effect of them had rather been like vertigo] and as you’d started to come to terms with the bloody things that you’d be expected to do now-the taste of the baby’s blood is still a bitter one in your mouth-and you often feel queasy. Whilst the different time of sleeping is <em>nothing</em> compared to the <em>actual</em> amount of sleep that you feel like you need right now and you often wake feeling irritable and ravenous. Dracula had brought some of the bottled blood that he keeps in his <em>own</em> apartment-not that he has been there much recently-and taken pity on you in that sense, mixing cocktails of it for you and trying to make you <em>laugh</em> through the discomfort of seeing other people’s memories. He says that you will go back to having <em>fresh</em> blood again once your fangs come through. </p><p> </p><p>“Will I be able to have <em>yours?”</em> you find that the words slip out without you being able to help them, but when Dracula takes away your empty glass in a dark manner and rinses it in the sink you <em>wish</em> that you had actually considered them. “That would be <em>too</em> intimate for you. You don’t trust me enough to <em>share</em> any memories with me. It’s okay, I understand. I'm <em>only</em> your bride after all. One of three more than likely.” You move to sit on the settee.   </p><p> </p><p><em>“Don’t</em> push me tonight. You <em>know</em> that you are important to me. You <em>know</em> how I’ve been trying to care for you.” He lifts up the glass pointedly, dries it and puts it away. Then he sighs, even though what you have just said is closer to the truth than he would <em>like</em> to admit-he <em>knows</em> that you have not been happy since you became a vampire and whilst he also does not want to <em>burden</em> you with any difficult memories of his that might put you off the thing all the more he also doesn’t feel <em>secure</em> enough that your feelings for him are as strong as his are for you and wants to protect himself. “You need to learn how to hunt in any case,” he attempts to shrug the matter off, “We can go together,” he sounds more wistful now, but you just feel like chewing upon something-your arm, the arm of the settee and <em>especially</em> Dracula are all tempting to you-as you are teething [Dracula had inspected your teeth that night and nodded, as if to say that all was well.] “You might enjoy it once you get used to it F/N.” He hopes that you will, but you are paying <em>more</em> attention to a programme that has sign language on it at this strange time of night than to him. </p><p> </p><p>‘He is beginning to <em>dream,’</em> Agatha pipes up in your head and you <em>growl</em> a little at her, lifting your arm up to your mouth and nibbling at it gently. </p><p> </p><p>“We can have a good chat with whoever it is beforehand”-you half-tilt your head towards the vampire and fix your eyes upon his long legs-“Come up with a signal of some kind. We could even”-</p><p> </p><p>‘Stop. Do not let him get too carried away. You need to limit his expectations,’ Agatha tells you as if she is trying to abort a plane. </p><p> </p><p>“I think I’d prefer to just feed from them and <em>not</em> get to know them all that much.” You lift your head up. </p><p> </p><p>Dracula looks disappointed for a moment, before he cheers himself up with the words, <em>“Still,</em> I have forever to get you to change your mind.” </p><p> </p><p>You smile, glad that he has taken it well for now, but worried again that you are not living up to his expectation of what your vampire self would be like.             </p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>When your fangs <em>finally</em> come through you feel both a relief from the fact that the pain and discomfort will start to subside now and an odd sense of <em>pride</em> at the idea that you have now achieved something important. </p><p> </p><p><em>Dracula,</em>  seems pleased too when he comes back from fetching more bottles of blood for you and you zoom up to proudly show him. He puts the blood down and inspects your teeth, not saying anything for a long, teasing moment, before he beams at you, holds you close and suggests that you should go out clubbing so that you can <em>both</em> let off some steam and celebrate the fact. You feel a little bit excited and apprehensive too, <em>aware</em> that he is taking you to a feeding ground and <em>expecting</em> you to pick a victim for yourself, not wasting <em>any</em> time in progressing to the next level of your vampire life. The ill feeling that you’d had with the baby is <em>also</em> present and Agatha mutters something about how she doesn’t think this is a good idea, but you can <em>sense</em> that she is <em>eager</em> to learn as much new information as she can from the night as well and will probably get a better understanding of what it is to be a vampire through watching a new fledgling like you as opposed to an old [and <em>defensive]</em> hand like Dracula. It seems like Agatha, Dracula and you are <em>all</em> in a good mood on the way to the club. <em>Teacher</em> Dracula comes out, however, and he gives you guidance on how to push through the sudden assault on your senses and seems keen to stick close to your side-steering you into the club with your arms looped together and watching as you observe everyone else once you are in the club. You seem to be getting <em>more</em> attention than you usually would be too-your new powers making you look ethereal and mysterious-though you feel a bit suddenly self-conscious about your fangs and <em>quickly</em> drop your smile whenever you feel yourself doing such a thing. You seem to make a handsome couple with Dracula though and some people continue to stare at you both <em>long</em> after you’ve walked in, treating you akin to celebrity. The attention feels good after being cooped up, but some of the people staring are <em>men</em> and you notice that Dracula shifts a bit closer to you by your place at the bar and rubs circles into your arm and back. You do not know <em>who</em> it is that he is reassuring, but feel better from the acts anyway and cast him a bit of a toothy smile, before you finally feel <em>brave</em> enough to disappear into the throng of dancing people and lights.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p> </p><p>There are beautiful people [from <em>both</em> sexes] all around you. You have danced and brushed up against a few of them, exchanged exhilarated smiles amongst the laser beams-you have <em>finally</em> lost your self-awareness-but suddenly mid-song you feel a hand come on to your thigh from behind and a voice places itself close to your ear as it tells you, “You’ve had your fun now, but I think it’s time to <em>choose,</em> don’t you?” You’d been aware of Dracula watching you, been <em>aware</em> of the fact that his eyes had been on you nine tenths of the time-<em>only</em> distracted when someone had <em>attempted</em> to make conversation with him, though the vampire had seemed to be less chatty than he usually was and you’d felt a thrill every time a woman had walked away from him looking disappointed-but you had <em>not</em> been aware until <em>now</em> of the apparent jealousy that you’d caused him and he rubs against your back like an animal declaring what’s his. One of his hands wraps itself around your waist, whilst the other applies a little more pressure to your thigh. You arch and groan back against him and he growls into your ear, which sends a <em>riot</em> of feeling into you that seem to be summed up by the bright lights. You turn <em>violently</em> and grab hold of the lapels of his dark suit. His eyes glitter in what could be a dangerous fashion, but the upward twitch of his lips tells you that he’s pleased. </p><p> </p><p>“Can’t I just have some more of yours?” you whisper lowly, but know that he will be able to hear. “It won’t get any better than that for me. Or some of the bottled stuff again for tonight? Start afresh tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your fangs have come through for a <em>reason,”</em> he murmurs, examining your pleading, sweaty face and pushing some of your hair back behind your ear. </p><p> </p><p>“I know they have, but”-</p><p> </p><p>“Have you <em>really</em> got to know these people so well?” He runs a tongue down your neck now and you clutch onto his waist with one hand and place the other upon his chest. You let out a moan and feeling temporarily satisfied he lifts his head up again. “I <em>know</em> you say that you do not want to introduce yourself in the way that <em>I</em> do”- </p><p> </p><p>“I feel like I know them through their pulses,” you can’t help but confessing, “Every beat seems to portray an emotion”- </p><p> </p><p>“And <em>whose</em> calls out to you the most?” he asks you in a determinedly neutral fashion. </p><p> </p><p>It would be <em>his</em> if he had one and maybe you should <em>say</em> such a thing, but instead your eyes scan the mix of closest bodies obediently, before your eyes land on a muscular man with strawberry blond hair and ice blue eyes who you’d shared a bit of a glance with earlier and who in <em>fact</em> happens to be the neighbour that had interrupted Dracula and you before with the baby and had popped around since on the basis of borrowing some flour-he does <em>not</em> look like much of a chef in your eyes and you’d thought that he’d come around to check up on things instead and had booted him out of there, as quickly as you’d been able to with the flour, before Dracula had been able to come back and find him. Your vampire partner had <em>not</em> been pleased, however, to detect the man’s scent, and had questioned you thoroughly and marked you with a particularly vivid love bite upon your neck  [Agatha had been both fascinated <em>and</em> appalled to observe the rough union and <em>feel</em> your reactions from the thing.] In the present the man feels your stare and smiles a bit when he notices that it is <em>you</em> who is looking at him in that intrigued way and you hear his pulse <em>leaping,</em> though you notice the cautious glance that he shoots Dracula as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Is there any one of the <em>female</em> persuasion?” Dracula asks, sounding more unnerved now, particularly by the fact that you <em>both</em> know the man a little. “He smells of Whitby, haven’t you noticed?” </p><p> </p><p><em>“What?!”</em> That throws you.  </p><p> </p><p>Dracula grabs at your arm and doesn’t let go of it until you are in the graffiti-covered tunnel on the way back from the club. “Didn't you smell it yourself when he came around before?” You shake your head. “And he’s been living there for a <em>while,</em> hasn’t he?” You open your mouth, as he pushes his face maddeningly close to yours. “I think you’re being <em>watched, </em> my sweet, and I think you have been for some time. That we <em>both</em> have been. The foundation haven’t trusted you since you moved down to the city with me and they must have placed someone in the same apartment block.” </p><p> </p><p>‘It’s <em>you</em> that they don’t trust,’ Agatha pipes up savagely in your head now and you know that her words are meant for Dracula.  </p><p> </p><p>“Is everything all right?” a voice and someone who actually <em>has</em> a pulse steps on to the scene. Your dead heart still manages to sink a little when you notice that it is your neighbour.</p><p> </p><p>“You should go,” you tell him. If Dracula’s words <em>are</em> true then it doesn’t take <em>much</em> of a guess to figure out what will happen next and the only surprise is that Dracula <em>hadn’t</em> killed him already, but you suppose that even the <em>police</em> would have been highly suspicious if there had been <em>another</em> death so soon after the other man that Dracula had killed and that he had not wanted to draw unnecessary attention to the pair of you or give the foundation any more incentive to try and trap you both. </p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you <em>ask</em> him about it first, my sweet?” </p><p> </p><p>“We <em>know</em> you’re from the foundation”- you know that Dracula is more than likely right about that and now that you are away from all the distracting smells in the club are able to smell the trace of Whitby upon the man yourself. If you’d had a working heart then it would have been pumping wildly in that moment.     </p><p> </p><p>“Then you’ll know why you have to come with me now.” The man, his blue eyes steady, just steps all the closer to you, seemingly unconcerned for himself. Dracula makes a rumbling, growling noise in his throat, but the man looks at him, <em>apparently</em> unafraid. His eyes roam back to you. “You shouldn't have let him turn you into a vampire F/N. You should have reported back to the foundation if you were getting worried”- he makes to grab at your hand and pull you protectively closer to him now and you let out a bit of a squeak because Dracula is on him in an instant, spinning him away from you and slamming him up against the wall of the tunnel, doing so, so powerfully that the man’s feet are off the ground and Dracula is just holding him with one arm pushed against his throat. The man’s blue eyes naturally widen and you can see the way that his pulse vibrates in his neck and <em>hear</em> it doing such a thing. It <em>almost,</em> along with the need for vengeance on the foundation and fright about what might have happened to <em>either</em> Dracula and you had you been more obliging to the man, makes you want to go over there and join Dracula and the feeling in turn makes you feel afraid.      </p><p> </p><p>“I <em>don’t</em> want this,” you tell both yourself and Dracula, trying to push back the temptation of it all.</p><p> </p><p>“So you’d rather that he takes you now and locks you up? Because I will <em>never</em> let that happen,” Dracula growls, before he bites into the man’s neck-something, which makes the man struggle and cry out in itself-enough to cause him to <em>bleed,</em>  but not enough to kill or do any serious damage and you know the answer to one of the questions that you’d had in your <em>old</em> life at that point-Dracula will <em>always</em> kill or punish anyone who disobeys or threatens him or any part of his world-something that you now are-and in that moment, because of the scent of the blood in particular and all the emotions that are swamping you, you feel like <em>you’d</em> do the same. Your nostrils <em>flare</em> at the metallic smell and then you can <em>feel</em> yourself going rigid and your eyes reddening ever so slightly. It is then that you realize something and see more clearly than you have in the past couple of weeks. </p><p> </p><p>“We are the same,” you murmur, telling Agatha as much as yourself. You join Dracula. Surprised he turns his head to look at you.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“What</em> did you say?” He is still pinning the man up, but his mouth is now full of blood. “I was a bit busy,” his humour flashes and you realize that it hasn’t been as present in the past couple of weeks and that you have missed it. The man’s eyes flit between you, but you only have eyes for your vampire partner. </p><p> </p><p>“I told you that we are the same,” you hum and he stares at you, “I feel mad about the foundation interfering in our lives, <em>worried</em> that they might harm you more than myself and now that I see you doing this I'm beginning to think that all along I’ve been afraid of you, but there’s no need for me to be. Not any more.” Dracula listens to you intently, whilst the man chokes underneath the pressure of his arm. “I love you. That is the thing that keeps me with you and has done and I <em>hate</em> seeing you with someone else just as much”-you remember the <em>relief</em> that you’d felt back in the club every time a woman had walked away disappointed-“I will not go off with someone even if I find them attractive and I want vengeance just as badly, so you can leave this one to me.” Dracula studies you for a moment intently, before he allows the man to slide down the wall and amongst the scattered rubbish of the tunnel and moves aside so that you can crouch before the man. Panting he clutches at his neck-the blood gushes over his hands like water, but <em>unlike</em> water it stains it-before he looks appealingly to you. He must only find condemnation in your eyes, however, for his own move quickly elsewhere and you follow them as they settle on a wooden stake that is nearby. “The foundation and you will never harm us again,” you hiss, lunging at his throat menacingly. You can feel Dracula’s delight and excitement as he watches from behind-maybe even a bit of <em>pride</em> too-and that spurs you on to lap greedily at the man. </p><p> </p><p>‘You are doing well,’ Agatha’s voice re-enters your head and you feel happy that she’d kept out of the way for a while and allowed your vampiric instincts to take flight, but feel confused by this comment. </p><p> </p><p>‘You make it sound like me being a vampire is what you <em>want,’</em>  you reply to her within your head, ‘But you have been so <em>appalled</em> by it, especially initially’-</p><p> </p><p>‘I meant what I told you. I am here to save you,’ she soothes and you believe her in that moment, but quickly turn against her when she adds dispassionately, ‘It is too late for Dracula. He has spent too many years doing the same thing to ever change now, but if you can control and manage your internal desires with the <em>external</em> world then I might be able to save <em>you.</em> Part of you learning to manage such a thing is you accepting your new life, as you are now beginning to do and feeling <em>confident</em> enough in your relationship with Dracula that you neutralize the threat from him and learn what you can from him for the time being until you are able to go it alone. I am proud of the progress that you are making.’</p><p> </p><p>‘And <em>how</em> would you have me ‘go it <em>alone,’</em> Agatha? By killing him? By doing your dirty work for you? Because <em>that</em> is what you don’t seem to understand. There <em>is</em> no world without him, not for <em>me,” </em> you say that last part out loud and Dracula looks at you in shock, before he notices something.</p><p> </p><p>“Darling watch out!” he cries as he sees the man’s hand wrapping around the wooden stake. Your teeth plunge into him, before he can get to you and the man’s fingers slacken on the wooden stake. His head lolls as you take on his weight and keep him upright yourself as he is no longer able to do the thing himself.</p><p> </p><p>Dracula keeps back, but watches you take your fill with relief <em>and,</em> at the same time, half-reflects on what had just happened. He’d been so frightened when he’d thought the man was going to take you from him-<em>more</em> scared than he’s been for a long time in fact and it had felt like the culmination of these difficult couple of weeks. </p><p> </p><p>When you are sated you turn around to him-the man falls bodily to the floor-and Dracula tentatively approaches you, watching as the red begins to fade from your eyes and attempting to clean the blood that is on your bottom lip by swiping his thumb across it. You duck your head down, however, making this difficult for him to do. “What is it my darling? You are not <em>still</em> regretting becoming a vampire? You did what you had to just now.” </p><p> </p><p>“I <em>know,”</em> you say, because you <em>do</em> understand that, but when you <em>finally</em> get the courage to look at him he sees that there are tears in your eyes and that they are beaded in red-something <em>else</em> that is exclusive to newly fledged vampires. It makes him feel sad and empathetic towards the obvious pain and hurt that you are going through-even as a <em>vampire</em> you still seem so fragile to him, <em>particularly</em> after what has just happened-and he attempts to brush the tears away with his fingers. “There’s something else,” you murmur, and he is <em>sure</em> that he is only able to hear you thanks to his superior senses, “That man,” you gesture and you look at him now, feeling a strand of pity at the sight of his broken body, but not much else, <em>only</em> disappointment that there is nothing left to feed upon-“Isn't the <em>only</em> one who has been working towards trying to hurt us over the past couple of weeks. There’s”-you grasp at your wrist-“There’s been a voice in my head, <em>talking</em> to me all this time, ever since I became a vampire. Perhaps I should have told you about it, but I <em>knew</em> that you would not be pleased”- you falter. </p><p> </p><p>“F/N, <em>why</em> would I not be pleased?” Dracula tilts your chin up, so that you are looking at him straight in the eye and you let go of your wrist. </p><p> </p><p>“I think it needs to be exorcised from me,” it is painful for you to admit that, but you can’t help but think in that moment that the <em>only</em> way in which it will be gone from you is with a weird kind of ritual like that. “It is against us,” you tell him, “I only worked that out tonight and I think that <em>you</em> would have probably worked it out much sooner.” Dracula observes you for a moment and <em>desperate</em> to make him understand you caress at his cheek. Not wanting you to touch him just in case whatever is in you should infiltrate him as well he opens his mouth in a silent snarl and twists his head, but you continue the motion of stroking him, as it reassures you and you think that it might do the same to him. “I thought it might have been my conscience at first. My family-my <em>mother’s</em> voice, the little bit of religion that managed to filter through my veins because of them telling me that who I am, <em>now</em> especially and what I have begun to do is unacceptable, that I am a sinner, that I will be sure to go to hell”-Dracula remembers how you have sometimes twisted in your bed sheets in the daytime next to him as if you have been fighting this very battle in your sleep and when you’d awoken he’d soothed you, thinking that it was just one of those nightmares that fledglings <em>normally</em> have, but now he is not so sure and <em>wishes</em> that he’d pressed you more about them at the time-“But the more that I heard it the <em>less</em> that the voice sounded like my family. Its got a different <em>accent</em> for one,” you delay the big reveal all the more.  </p><p> </p><p><em>“What</em> accent?” Dracula asks and there is something hungry in his gaze. </p><p> </p><p>“European-<em>Dutch,”</em> you grow all the more specific at that point. </p><p> </p><p>Dracula’s stare seems all the more intense to you if that is even possible. “And what does this <em>Dutch</em> voice say to you?” he utters the words in practically a growl, his hand going upon your upper arm. </p><p> </p><p>“All <em>kinds</em> of things,” you murmur, “At the start she was goading me and anything that had to do with my vampire life, but then she started deepening my doubts and it got <em>pretty</em> personal at times and not terribly religious now that I think about it…”</p><p> </p><p><em>“She?”</em> Dracula ponders for a moment, before he questions, “So you wouldn’t class the voice as that of a nun?” He leans forwards a little.</p><p> </p><p><em>“God</em> no,” you laugh, but Dracula’s eyebrows <em>stoop</em> over his eyes and he moves all the closer to you. </p><p> </p><p>“Agatha Van Helsing,” he whispers into your ear and the sound of him saying that name and the <em>realization</em> that he has twigged sends shivers down your spine, “If it is <em>you</em> who is in there then get <em>out</em> of my wife.” </p><p> </p><p><em>“Gladly</em> Count,” a voice that is <em>not</em> yours leaves your mouth and Dracula grabs onto your other arm as well, his eyes sweeping across your face. Has he banished you <em>forever</em> with those few words or are you <em>still</em> under the surface somewhere? He has seen <em>nothing</em> like this before and part of him takes <em>pleasure</em> from the freshness of the scene. “She is still in there, but won’t disturb us for the present,” Agatha shrugs Dracula off her, “I think you would <em>both</em> benefit if you were to do the right thing for once and <em>release</em> her from the life that you have inflicted upon her. She is not cut out for such a life. Your <em>wife,</em> as you call her”-</p><p> </p><p>“Ah, now we are getting to the <em>real</em> point. Where we learn that what should in fact be the angel is the <em>devil</em> as my wife was starting to see. Is it your <em>jealousy</em> Agatha that is making you <em>do</em> these things? <em>Whisper</em> harmful things into my wife’s ear?” Dracula runs a finger down her cheek at that point. </p><p> </p><p>“Do not flatter yourself Count. My motivations have <em>always</em> been pure”-</p><p> </p><p>“Is that so? Maybe they were to begin with, but like I have said perhaps your <em>jealousy</em> made you lose sight of your initial quest?” His eyebrow rises at her. </p><p> </p><p>“The fact is that this latest generation of humans-and I am <em>including</em> your wife among them-seem to be made of willow. By looking through her past history, as you have no doubt done yourself now that her blood runs through your veins”-Dracula has <em>indeed</em> done such a thing, and often through the past couple of weeks, searching for anything there that might have explained your quiet behaviour-“It became quickly <em>clear</em> to me that the best way I could get her to do what I wanted was to play the devil’s advocate”-</p><p> </p><p><em>“Imagine</em> such a thing! How was it for you on the other side Agatha?” Dracula laughs. “Or isn’t it the truth that you are <em>there</em> more often than not anyway?”  </p><p> </p><p>“Control your tomfoolery Count,” Agatha looks at him disparagingly. “So I tried to repel her from all aspects of her new life and you”-</p><p> </p><p>“And when that didn’t work-<em>despite</em> your criticism of her being made of willow-is <em>that</em> when you got jealous?” Dracula cannot help himself. </p><p> </p><p>“I picked at all her doubts,” Agatha goes on as if she has not heard him, “I hoped that <em>she,</em> with her history of rebelling”-Dracula recalls how you went against your parents religion-“Would find a way to do so against me and grow stronger for the thing.” </p><p> </p><p>“And what were you making her stronger <em>for?</em> To kill me?”</p><p> </p><p>“No to simply <em>survive,”</em> Agatha rebuffs him coolly.</p><p> </p><p>“And <em>then</em> to kill me?” Dracula’s other eyebrow rises. Agatha remains stubbornly silent, but they <em>both</em> know the answer. “Why not take root in Zoe then? I thought that you would have <em>wanted</em> your relative to carry on the family tradition of interfering where you are not wanted, even in <em>death</em> itself where you are <em>not</em> meant to interfere Agatha”-</p><p> </p><p>“Do not pretend that you are not glad to see me.” It is <em>Dracula’s</em> turn to be silent. “And Zoe is being rather stubborn at the moment, if you <em>must</em> know,” she sniffs, some of the face that he remembers coming through on yours.  </p><p> </p><p>“You must have been <em>thrilled</em> when I drank from F/N and you were able to take root in her instead. I take it that it <em>is</em> through my blood that you got into her?”     </p><p> </p><p>“Correct.”</p><p> </p><p>“But maybe the truth is that you decided that it would be <em>easier</em> to influence <em>my</em> wife and have <em>her</em> as possible collateral damage instead? So I’ll ask you again. Is that your plan Agatha? To infiltrate my wife like a virus until she turns against me or even <em>kills</em> me?”-</p><p> </p><p>“My <em>only</em> intention is to get your wife to cope with the life that you have pushed on her”-</p><p> </p><p>“Would you have her pick up this stake of wood in fact?” Dracula sounds excited now and he picks up the wood and tries to push it into Agatha’s hand. Her fingers twitch, but she cannot seem to grasp onto it. “Hello darling. You can come back to me now, F/N. I <em>know</em> you are still there,” Dracula whispers into Agatha’s ear, “You don’t <em>like</em> the idea of killing me, do you? I know your feelings for me are still there deep down”-at least he <em>hopes</em> that they are and that even with what is going on you are still able to love him and that your <em>own</em> jealousy hasn’t compromised you-“We don’t <em>have</em> to tell one another all the time, do we? But the feelings are there. I <em>know</em> they are and if they are then you need to concentrate on them and <em>rise</em> up like the dove that you are. Let them lift you there like your feelings of love and vengeance made you want to react earlier,” he instructs you. There is a lot of blinking and retching as <em>you,</em> having heard Dracula’s voice, want to <em>fight</em> and come to the surface. He sees a flash of red that can only be <em>you,</em> attempting to rise in bloody revenge for all that Agatha has swayed you and made you doubt in the past couple of weeks, and grabs at your upper arms, rubbing circles into them soothingly. “You can do it, my dove,” he tells you encouragingly, but when he closes his eyes for a second and then opens them once more he is able to tell that the spirit of Agatha is still dominant inside you.  </p><p> </p><p>“I have begun to be afraid that the <em>only</em> option for F/N is death since she refuses to adapt properly to her new life, preferring this half and half world instead and I will ask you <em>this</em> since she can’t. Do you <em>really</em> love her as you have just claimed you do or is the truth somewhere closer to the fact that she is your <em>most</em> promising experiment so yet? What would you do to her, for example, if she is not able to bear you any children?” </p><p> </p><p> “I wouldn’t put her down for not giving me a child and you already <em>know</em> what my feelings are for her even if you do not want to admit them yourself,” he snarls, <em>knowing</em> his words to be truer than ever that night. “I would only ever kill her if it was for her <em>own</em> benefit.” He remembers your own words about the exorcism now. “If something was <em>infecting</em> her”- he breaks off to look at Agatha dangerously. </p><p> </p><p>“Killing her is the <em>only</em> way that you will be able to get rid of me Count,” Agatha squares up to him, unafraid.   </p><p> </p><p>“Then <em>why</em> have you been encouraging me to do it all along? Aren't you <em>afraid</em> to have a part of you die for good this time?” He looks at her bemusedly, but is <em>truly</em> curious for her answer.</p><p> </p><p>“No, as I will live on through others I know, and I will take pleasure from F/N escaping you, but you <em>are</em> afraid of death, are you not Count? That is the <em>key</em> that I have been searching for all along”- Agatha sounds excited now. </p><p> </p><p>“I'm glad that you found it, but it’s time for me to save her from <em>you</em> now,” Dracula, <em>knowing</em> that he has to act fast and partly doing so for his <em>own</em> self-preservation at the end of the day, but <em>also</em> hoping that you in turn might be strong enough to survive the blow, clenches his hand around the wooden stake and <em>thrusts</em> it into your body. Agatha begins to fade immediately, though she is <em>thrilled</em> by the knowledge that she has managed to obtain during this encounter-both about what drives him and <em>surely</em> has an influence upon his dire need to <em>constantly </em> attempt to extend his legacy through children and the idea that vampires <em>are</em> actually able to love after all. How can something <em>so</em> dark be able to feel such a thing? Maybe the truth is that they are <em>not</em> that different from humans after all- </p><p> </p><p>You come back to the surface, clambering over Agatha and pushing her back down as you grip onto Dracula’s arms. Wind picks up in the graffiti-covered tunnel and a golden light pours out from the point that he has made contact with. It lights up the whole place and ricochets off the writing on the walls as if you are both standing in the middle of a glass room and looking up into bright sunlight, being <em>surrounded</em> by the thing in fact. Dracula <em>screams,</em> his eyes looking at you, afraid to stay there in so much bright light, but <em>unable</em> to let go of you all the same. In a weird kind of compromise his hand begins to slide the stake out of you. The threads of light quiver and splutter, before things return to darkness and how they were <em>before</em> when Dracula removes the stake completely. You begin to fall backwards, but Dracula grabs on to you in order to <em>stop</em> the process, before he lowers you down gently onto the ground. Your mouth is a little ajar, fangs quietly protruding, but your eyes are shut and your body is still. There are no signs of any life. </p><p> </p><p><em>“F/N?”</em> Dracula shuffles on his knees in between your legs and peers down into your face, his hands either side of your arms. He feels like he has used up a lot of his energy and <em>needs</em> to rest in the bed that has some of the soil that he’d brought from his homeland at its bottom. He <em>wishes</em> that he could lie in the bed with you and that you could restore your energy together, but that doesn’t look as if it will be happening now as you show <em>no</em> signs of moving at all. He can hear laughter in the distance, but no one disturbs him or <em>attempts</em> to enter the tunnel and he feels lonelier than he has ever done before. <em>“F/N?”</em> He could even cope with you waking up and immediately yelling at him, just so long as you woke up. As long as you are alive. As long as you <em>never</em> tell him to leave you. He has <em>enjoyed </em> beginning to guide you through vampire life, of having someone to tutor. “There are <em>so</em> many things that I would like to show you my darling. We have barely scratched the surface.” His heart might not be beating any more, but it can still <em>ache</em> and he feels it do such a thing at that point. He had just <em>started</em> to have proper vampire company again. Someone who he could teach. Who could <em>learn</em> from him. Who had maintained <em>so</em> much of themselves instead of becoming a growling, drooling mess or a watered down version like so many of his previous experiments have become. Even when you’d been <em>angry</em> with him he’d <em>adored</em> you, probably <em>more</em> so for it in fact, and had hoped that you might be able to feel the same. <em>Why</em> hadn’t his act vanquished <em>Agatha</em> alone? It would be a blow to lose part of her as well, but Agatha versus an already made bride is <em>no</em> match for the instinctive thing that is driving him, <em>especially</em> when you are concerned. He’d been <em>sure</em> that he’d seen you triumph over her, before you’d passed away. Were you too <em>young</em> in your new life to withstand the blow yourself? A single clear tear trickles down from his eye. In between your legs he holds the point of the stake close to his chest instead, feeling <em>robbed</em> of his future and like there cannot be such a thing at <em>all</em> without you. “Please come back to me,” he pleads in one last attempt, “I love you.” The tip of the stake pierces his dark shirt. “I love you.” He drives it in, the veins popping beneath both his shirt sleeves and on his hands, head <em>arched</em> slightly back as he offers himself to you in a non-fatal act and what Agatha would more than likely deem the <em>only</em> way that he knows how to offer anything to anyone. But it is not enough for him and <em>unlike</em> other times in his life when he was too afraid to act he isn’t now. He places the stake back down by his side for a moment and tears his shirt back from him. The buttons burst off and roll everywhere. There is a purple-red bruise on the spot that he had pierced with the stake, but it hasn’t even <em>properly</em> punctured the skin-only applied enough pressure to dent it and to cause the mark. With a growl of frustration and eyes, which quickly soften as they dart back to your still face, Dracula pushes the stake into your floppy hand and holds it in place there with his. <em>Then</em> with a shout he drives the stake home and into his chest, expecting <em>more</em> pain this time, but feeling curious as to whether or not this way of doing things will <em>actually</em> work and he will be able to give everything that he is to you. The stake pierces his skin this time and actually <em>manages</em> to draw some blood, before it drops down clumsily on to the ground. Dracula almost <em>howls</em> in frustration at his inability to kill himself, as he has killed you and almost <em>throws</em> himself down upon you, his wound going close to where yours is. He tucks his head beneath yours now as he wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes his eyes shut. “F/N you <em>need</em> to be awake and alive for me to tell you this.” He goes back the past couple of weeks and tries to put into words what he is feeling now, “I thought-I got carried away when I made you a vampire, that is the truth. I wanted to save you for as long as possible. I didn’t <em>want</em> to condemn you to this life. Most people I would have no qualms, but with the ones I <em>love</em>...eternity…it <em>does</em> things to people. I didn’t want you to be hunted like this. For me to have no other choice”-he gestures at your body-“You <em>know</em> how selfish I am.” His lip quirks upwards now in spite of himself. “I consoled myself by thinking that you might be able to understand me more, now that you would be a vampire too and have to do those same things, that I would make it work,” his voice is<em> raw</em> with both need and honesty. “I was further convinced though, and I <em>know</em>  whose fault that is now,” he lets out a bit of a growl, “That you were rejecting the entire process the more that time went along and that you would have <em> rather</em> been with someone else. <em>Anyone</em> else. <em>That’s</em> why I got so cross when I saw you with your phone. I wasn’t sure of your feelings any more. On the night I turned you I was, but then when it happened…and <em>now</em> …F/N I was <em>trying</em> to get rid of her from you. I thought that I was doing the right thing, that I was <em>freeing</em> you, that you were <em>there.”</em> Even as he says the words he is <em>sure</em> that he hears the bitter echo of Agatha telling him that he was only doing it for himself. “I couldn't <em>bear</em> for her to be inside you any more. <em>She</em> was the one who was making you unhappy this entire time when I just wanted you to <em>enjoy</em> your new life, <em>us.</em>  I would <em>never</em> want you to hurt alone, as much as we don’t get on sometimes…but you have and because of <em>me.</em> I will <em>never</em> forgive myself for not being able to be with you completely. For only being able to connect with <em>her</em> spirit when you needed me the most.” Losing himself to his grief and self-pity he twists around and then <em>plunges</em> his fangs into your neck for one final time. If he cannot die then perhaps by <em>biting</em> you, your trip to the next place and your final destination will occur in a more <em>dreamlike</em> way and give you one last echo of you and him.                         </p><p> </p><p>He is <em>so</em> intent on his mission that he does not immediately notice or pay much attention to the golden light that begins to <em>pool</em> from both of your chests and mix together, but when it starts to effect his vision and make him blink he pulls away from you slowly, his lips and mouth <em>stained</em> with your blood. The light hovers between you and Dracula looks at it in wonder for a moment, before he begins to try and <em>cradle</em> it with his hands like a newborn babe. Something <em>else</em> catches his attention-you are blinking. He pushes his fascination with the light to one side and hovers over you, hardly daring to <em>believe</em> the thing.</p><p> </p><p><em>“F/N?”</em> </p><p> </p><p>You manage to get your vision steady enough and come up with a pretty smile for him, cupping at his cheek. “Are we-?”  </p><p> </p><p>“No-No I don’t think so,” he informs you, “I think we’re still on the same earth, in the same place, living our lives.” He looks at you hopefully now, not wanting to <em>believe</em> that you might desire the same life as him, especially after <em>this</em> experience. Has Agatha <em>really</em> been extinguished from you? Had you managed to push through and survive or had it been the fact that he was willing to <em>sacrifice</em> himself that had brought you back to him? He doesn’t know, but he doesn’t <em>care</em> in that moment so long as you are with him.  </p><p> </p><p>“I wanna live that life,” your voice brings him out of his thought now, but he almost wants to ask you to <em>repeat</em> what you have just told him to make <em>sure</em> that he has heard you correctly. You sit up with a bit of a wince and a struggle now and he curves his arms around your back so that he can support you. His eyes flick down to your wound concernedly, but he smiles at you reassuringly quickly enough and meets your eyes with his own. Is this <em>really</em> happening? Does he have you in his arms? <em>Had</em> you said what he <em>thought</em> you just had? “I'm not gonna <em>pretend,” </em> you huff, “That some of it won’t take <em>some</em> adjusting to. I'm not sure if I’ll <em>ever</em> be comfortable with hunting or that I’ll be as good at it as you are”-</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve had <em>years</em> more experience, but I’ll teach you everything I know,” Dracula promises, part of him starting to believe that this <em>might</em> in fact be real after all. </p><p> </p><p>“And you’ll have to explain things as you teach me,” you push him, “Even <em>if</em> part of you doesn’t want to or feels a bit apprehensive and worried that I will leave you. I <em>won’t,”</em> you say matter-of-factly, “I am a vampire and you are my mate.” It feels <em>wondrous</em> to Dracula to hear you say such words.</p><p> </p><p>“You are <em>finally</em> accepting this life? And that it can’t be as it was before?” he questions you keenly. </p><p> </p><p>“It’s a <em>lot</em> easier to do without Agatha’s influence,” you confess to him a little shyly.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s <em>really-?</em> You cannot feel her any more?”</p><p> </p><p>You shake your head, before you confirm, “She’s gone,” you say. </p><p> </p><p>“You have to tell me from now on if you have any worries or if <em>anything</em> like that is happening to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll do my best to be more honest.” You look at him, before you start as you mean to go on: “I love you Drac.” </p><p> </p><p>He kisses you, taking <em>care</em> not to clash his fangs with yours. You taste your blood on him, but though <em>red</em> surges in your eyes it drops back down quickly again-you are still a bit full from your meal earlier and sated enough from what is going on <em>here.</em> “I love you too and even if you cannot give me children I will <em>not</em> abandon you,” he re-iterates now in front of you instead of Agatha and your entire face and being brighten up even <em>though</em> the golden light has faded from all around you. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh and Drac?” you murmur, wanting to continue this moment of telling the truth to him.</p><p> </p><p><em>“Mm?”</em> He tucks some of your hair behind your ear. </p><p> </p><p>“I want to properly get married to you. In the <em>human</em> way.”</p><p> </p><p>Dracula looks dumbfounded by the suggestion, before his eyes begin to rapidly darken, but <em>not</em> with desire. “I thought you had <em>accepted</em> that things cannot be the same now.”</p><p> </p><p>“This is <em>important</em> to me,” you tell him and Dracula sees that you <em>still</em> have a lot to learn. “This one thing. For me? <em>Please?”</em> you beg.  </p><p> </p><p>“All right,” Dracula sighs, seeing that <em>he</em> too has a lot to learn about how this relationship will work also. You beam at him. </p><p> </p><p>There in that tunnel, with <em>him?</em> That is the happiest that you have ever been.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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